Ameas Night
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Prince Caine despises his younger brother. Abyll is everyone's favorite. He's strong, brave, kindhearted, and he's only ten! To what lengths will Caine go to even the score? Especially when a legendary dragon king offers him a perfect chance at revenge... ALT ENDING ADDED 3/23/14.
1. Prologue: Malicious Intent

**A/N:** This is an AU-ish fic, I will say now. I don't believe in giving credit or glory to any other god but my Heavenly Father, and so, I have done some altering to Hyrule's history. If you have a problem with this, you can simply not read my story. No flame comments please; these changes are done according to my own convictions, not to shove anything into anyone's face.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. **

**Prologue:**

**Malicious Intent**

"_Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:"~1 Peter 5:8_

A volley of hellish flames cascaded vertically to its target, the wicks of the waiting candles on the chandelier that hung from the stone ceiling. A rather pitiful piece of metal, but the only available source of light in this cursed room at the moment. The threads in the wax of the candles ignited easily, bathing the cavern below in a hungry orange glow. The light bounced off the hundreds of thousands of reflective objects that lay scattered about the floor like hailstones after a storm, and millions of little points of light danced on the rough shale walls.

Blood red eyes took in the extensive wealth before them, scanning over each and every ruby and diamond, as well as the carpet of coins of gold and silver and copper. A lusted treasure – the dragons' hoard.

_This… _thought he who looked upon the glorious riches, _this is what my father's life succumbed to… _

A great roar of fury erupted from his black, scaled lips and he struck wildly, his muscular arm and vicious silver claws sending the piles of coins and gems flying in every which direction, exposing the smooth surface of the stone floor beneath. Smoke billowed from his flaring nostrils, and he clenched his razor teeth, as if the culprit behind all of this was betwixt his jaws now. Nothing would have given him more pleasure than to taste the blood on his forked tongue, to feel the bones breaking under his teeth…

But alas. Here he was, still cowering like a mangy dog in the bowels of his mountain fortress. Still an exile, still a creature despised… still a beast to be feared.

_Reputation tainted long ago… _So long ago, it was. Ages, perhaps, as his kind were known throughout for their lengthy lifespan. But the time was just about ripe for the taking. Soon, he would have his victory…

The Hero of Time would pay.

Oh, yes. He would pay indeed. Pay for assisting that inferior king in the banishment of dragonkind. Though the Hero he had known was no doubt long since dead, his line had to have continued… No… The next Hero had to have emerged. Yes…

The rush of hastily flapping wings broke through his conscious and he lifted his head in time to see a Shadowbat drop from the opening in the ceiling. It panted heavily, looking disoriented and very travel-weary. But upon seeing him, it dropped to the floor, dragging its body along the coins, closer to his clawed feet.

"My lord…" it croaked in its rasping voice. The sound grated on his eardrums, making him clench his jaw. A rumbling growl emitted from his throat, and he suppressed a shudder as a chill made his spiny crest tremble.

"Speak, don't grovel, wretch," he spat, curling his lips and baring his teeth. The Shadowbat quivered. "My patience is short today…"

"Y-Your suspicions were confirmed… The Queen of Hyrule is with child, due to deliver next summer, my lord. The country is-is hosting a celebration that will last a week…"

He said nothing in response, the wheels in his mind whirring and clicking like the gears of a clock. They did not slow, even after the longest while; if anything, they quickened. Everything fitted into place within the confines of his intelligence, and soon, his malicious plan fell together. Everything was ready, except…

"In one month's time, you will send one of your best stealth agents to Hyrule once again, Embrister. Have him make haste to the king and queen's chambers, and tarry there until nightfall." He turned, regarding the mounds of wealth around him casually, the flicking of his tail betraying his anxiety. "Once both are asleep, he will scratch the queen's womb, just above the child within…"

The groveling creature chanced a shaking glance upward, looking befuddled. "Er… Wouldn't it be easier, sire," it uttered with hesitance, "to simply bite the womb?"

He sighed long-sufferingly, smoke leaving his jaws with the hot breath. "No, Embrister… That would kill it. We need it alive. A scratch will merely weaken the child's defenses, making it easier to control… when the time is right."

"What of the effects on the queen? Surely they will suspect something…"

"Concern yourself not, my loyal minion. The effects will appear nothing more than a side effect of the pregnancy. Mortals, particularly Hylians, are ignorant in that way. They are far too hesitant with their suspicion. Even after everything they've endured in the past ages." His piercing scarlet eyes swiveled to the Shadowbat once again.

"On that note… What have you found of the Hero of Time? Is there one in existence among the mainland races?"

The Shadowbat swallowed, easily feeling the contempt in his master's voice. "Th-There have been confirmed rumors… Of many great wars on the mainland, against a usurper called Ganondorf… All battles have been aided and won by a brave warrior who wields…" The creature hesitated. "The Master Sword. And… h-he is also the father of the queen's child, the current king of… Hyrule."

The red eyes widened. "So… It is true. The sword has been drawn… And the Hero of Time has returned… as… king." A sadistic grin tugged at his snout. "My calculations were correct." He chortled darkly, and glanced back at his subject.

"No time will be wasted. Gather the forces, quickly. We will be ready."

"Gather the forces? But sire, we have a month's time, and even then, only one of us will be dispatched. Must we rush so?"

The coal black tail whipped through the air, missing the bat by mere inches and making the scruffy patch of hair on its head bristle. It whimpered, cowering back against the gold.

He whirled, wings extended broadly and the spines on his head and back tingling with rage. His eyes blazed; he slammed his hands against the floor, one on either side of the bat, making the floor shake. His claws glimmered in the dim light, twitching with an ache for bloodshed.

Lowering his head, he snorted down over the pitiful, trembling creature. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low, and rumbling.

"We. Will. Be. Ready."

The Shadowbat nodded vigorously, openly regretting its mistake in questioning its great master. The master then drew back again, sitting back on his haunches; the rage was gone from his scaled face, as if nothing had upset him.

"Now…"

There it was again. The rage returned in full force, and the bat scarcely had the time to dodge the blast of white flames.

"GO!"

"Yes, sire! Yes, yes!" Whimpering and shrieking, the bat fumbled into the air, wings flapping desperately as it ascended up, and disappeared through the exit.

The deep, menacing laugh of its master ricocheted off the stone walls and followed it, pounding through the tunnel halls and making all those able to hear it tremble.


	2. Chapter 1: Moment of Right

**Chapter One:**

**Moment of Right**

_"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want._

_He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters._

_He restoreth my soul:" ~ Psalm 23: 1-3a_

What were stars? Truly?

So wondrous, so breathtaking… so awe-inspiring. And yet… so distant. They knew not of the troubles dealt to the people of this small, inferior planet, nor did he imagine they cared. Giant, floating bodies of gases and flame, fixed in their orbits, never changing, always moving, according to the time of the year. What did they have to concern themselves with the hardships of this mere country?

No, no, they held no true power. In a way, he wished his gaze could travel beyond the inky blackness that was the night sky, and to the light of the kingdom beyond. But all who bore the mark upon their hand knew that that kingdom was unreachable before death. Until then…

The buffets of this world had much control. _Lord, deliver our people…_

He felt his wife's fingers tighten around his, and he was pulled from his reveries. He turned his head toward her, reveling the feeling of the thick grass against his cheek. It had been much too long. Much too long since he enjoyed the tugs of the spring breeze on his hair, the cool of the midnight earth, the unearthly glow of the full moon…

But a feeling he enjoyed most was the feather-light brush of her soft lips against his. The kiss brought a smile to his face as she rested her head on his chest, and he inhaled deeply, savoring her scent of sweet honeysuckle. When was the last time he had taken the time to simply bask in her presence? The last time he'd been content to hold her close, to stroke the silk of her hair, to touch the satin skin of her face, to fold his arms about her and feel their beings mesh together like matching puzzle pieces… Much too long ago.

"What are you thinking about?" came her voice, hushed as the lone hoot of an owl sounded over the field.

How could he sum it up in one word? His thoughts whirred about his head like so many feral horses; he swore he could almost hear the thunderous roar of their pounding hooves, and it was beginning to drive him to distraction.

"…Everything." He gently stroked her back, feeling her chest expand with each breath. A short laugh chimed from her lips, and he cherished the sound. It had been a while since she last laughed…

"Care to elaborate?"

He blew a deep breath out his mouth, absently combing his fingers through her coppery locks. Where could he begin? And without worrying her on this, their night to be alone in their companionship…

"I wish there was more we could do. And I know the rest of the country shares my sentiments… I fear that every day that passes with no sign of rain chips away at the confidence they have in us."

With her cheek against his chest, he could easily feel her expression change, tense. She propped herself on her elbow, gazing down at him with those enchanting eyes as blue as a tropical sea. But their beauty was spoiled by the deep furrowing of her delicate brow. She rested her other arm over his chest, her tapered fingers trailing over his jaw.

"You have no way of predicting the forces of nature… What makes you think they'd blame you – us – for something we have no control over?"

The simple loving touch of her hand on his face, and the quiet of her voice, did wonders in shooing away the doubts that plagued him. But still… Thoughts lingered.

"People are fickle… They set their full trust on things that often can't live up to their expectations… like other people." Another breath escaped him in a heavy sigh.

"Link…" She spoke his name with a hint of compassion stirred in with something like reproach. Her fingers moved to toy with the ornery mop of sandy hair that hung over his forehead. After a moment of studying him, she allowed herself a wry half-grin. "You really must stop this habit of taking the responsibility for everything."

He couldn't resist grinning in return. "I'm the Hero of Time. It's my job."

The smile reached the other side of her face as laughter bubbled its way out of her throat. The sound made his own smile broaden. Oh, how he loved it when she laughed… How blessed he was.

She caressed his jaw, and his chin, before ever so subtly leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss, slower, and more tender this time. Something in the depths of his being seemed to ignite, as it always did when they touched. Every emotion he felt for her projected in stark contrast to all others, and pushed away the thoughts of the drought, the unrest, all of it. Exileration, awe, reverence, unworthiness, courage – the Triforce on the back of his right hand shot a tingling sensation up his arm – and, of course, love. Love so deep, and vast, and unending, he wasn't even sure how it was possible for such a deep commitment and affection could exist in one mere man's heart.

Managing to pull herself closer, she rested her hands firmly on his chest and gently pulled apart from him. He attempted to follow, not wanting the kiss to end just yet, but she pushed him back, and he resignedly relaxed against the grass. He found that his arms had snaked around her waist of their own accord, and he lifted one hand to trace over her face – her pixie-like nose, her long-lashed almond-shaped eyes, her supple lips.

"What did I do, in all my days, to deserve such a jewel as you, my Zelda?" said he, his voice breathlessly low. His finger feathered over the slight pucker of her lower lip.

That brought a subdued smile to her face, not at all like the last one. This one seemed to echo the sentiments expressed in his words. She took hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers, and brushed her lips over his again.

A rather loud snort cut their kiss short. A velvet muzzle lipped at Zelda's hair, and Link peered over her shoulder. A laugh escaped him.

"Epona's feeling a bit jealous, I see," Zelda muttered, groping at her hair to wipe away the horse foam. She made a face and rid her fingers of the slime on the grass beside them.

He only laughed more, and stole a last kiss from her before attempting to sit up. His wife rose with him, but stayed within his embrace. Link's chestnut Shire stomped a hoof and nickered, tossing her blonde mane.

"We're coming; we're getting up, don't you worry." Link laughed as his horse simply returned a blank stare and a swish of her tail. He gave Zelda a gentle, loving squeeze and brushed a kiss over her forehead. She closed her eyes, leaning comfortably into him. He didn't blame her for not wanting to go quite yet; the duties and responsibilities surely wouldn't have left the castle in their absence. They would all be waiting for them when they returned.

He turned to the stars once more, and shook her slender arm when he saw a streak of light. "A shooting star, love. Make a wish."

She chuckled against his chest, her fingers exploring over the light fabric of his shirt. "I wish it could be this way all the time. Just you, and me, and the children, in the peace of nature – no monsters to vanquish, or villains trying… to kill you, and kidnap me."

Link's smile turned sympathetic; he knew all too well what she meant. It seemed that things would only get settled when some dastardly character emerged to make a show of attempting to steal the Triforce, or some other despicable plan. He wasn't ungrateful for the life he had, but there were times he wished it could be a bit less complicated…

"What do you wish for?" Zelda's fingers had undone the laces at the neck of his shirt, and were gently roaming over the skin at his collarbone. He suppressed a shiver at the sweet caresses of her chilled fingers.

"Rain. A lot less intricate than yours, I know, but… That would help a lot of things right now…"

He felt her lips press against the dip of his collarbone and lovingly made their way up his neck. He swallowed involuntarily, beginning to lose ground to his train of thought.

"Link, don't concern yourself over this… No one blames you for the drought. Especially not the people; they look up to you, they adore you. No one could wish for a better king." She came to kiss his lips teasingly before shifting to pull herself into his lap. Clasping her hands behind his back, she leaned into him, craning her neck to look up into his face.

He tried not to let the anxiety show in his expression. "I know, but that's just it… They look up to me. They rely on me, but…"

"But you can't do everything. You're only human."

A breeze flew over them, ruffling her hair, and admiration tugged his mouth into a soft smile. How beautiful she was… both inside and out. He truly didn't deserve such a woman as her.

A hard, square-ish head nudged him between the shoulder blades and he grimaced, while Zelda laughed. She slid from his lap and rose to her feet, grinning down at him. He did his best to hide his disappointment as her warmth left him. With a quiet sigh, he playfully shoved Epona's heavy head away from him and rocked to his feet as well.

"To the castle, then?"

Her eyes twinkled in the starlight. _So beautiful…_

"I suppose we must. Estel has had enough work for one evening; it's time we headed back." She let her hands and eyes drift over his chest one last time, pressed one more succulent kiss to his mouth, and pulled away to approach her Hwesta. The grey mare lifted her head eagerly as her mistress neared, her big doe-like eyes shining in the moonlight.

Both swung into the saddles of their respective horses and reined them in the direction of Keskus. The distant lights of the central city shone like a beacon through the darkness of the surrounding night, the golden aura warm and welcoming. The castle stood proudly on the crest of the hill, creamy walls accented by the cozy lights in the windows.

For the longest while, they simply savored each other's company, listening to the rhythmic plodding of the mares' hooves.

"I hope Caine didn't give her any trouble." Zelda broke the quietness, and Link turned to throw her a sidelong glance.

"I wouldn't doubt it. You know how he doesn't think he needs nurse. No, he's much too 'mature' for that." He chanced a wry grin in her direction, and inwardly smiled at the aghast expression of amusement on her face.

"Link Taurë, you shouldn't speak of your son like that…" Nevertheless, he didn't miss the grin that stole away the seriousness of her scolding. She stared down at the horn of her saddle to hide her mirth.

"Well… Probably not. But you know it's true; you can't deny it. He's had a headstrong attitude since day one." He maneuvered Epona behind Hwesta and around to her other side. Neither Hylian objected when their knees brushed against each other.

Zelda smiled, but didn't comment further.

The rest of the return trip was spent in companionable silence, with neither thinking, nor wishing to say anything. Both were content with the other's company, and the desirous looks his wife kept shooting him were enough to make the color rise to Link's face.

The gates of the Outer Wall opened without their bidding, the sentries having expected their king and queen's return. The city streets were empty and peaceful, with most folk asleep in their homes at this hour. Torches flickered shadows over the fronts of the buildings lining the main streets, and the couple wove their way through the levels, up the incline toward the palace.

Even the palace seemed to be at peace. The gates were opened immediately following their hail, and a stable boy fetched the horses to the stables whilst they adjourned into the castle. Only the necessary guards, who remained faithfully at their posts, greeted them and the lack of overwhelming reception was refreshing.

They made their way up two flights of stairs to the royal chambers, which sat adjacent to one another all along one floor of the great structure. Link and Zelda did their best to keep their steps quiet in the marble halls, and succeeded mostly, until they reached the doors of the children's rooms. Zelda eased open the first door.

In the bed at the opposite side of the room, their middle child slept contentedly, the covers pulled tight about his neck. His cantankerous head of sandy blond hair was not only strewn about his head, fanned over the cotton surface of the pillow, but his bangs hid his eyes, making it appear as if it were only the crest of his head peering out from under the thick blankets.

Young Aybll was the deepest sleeper of them all. Zelda claimed he was just like his father. Link smiled at the thought.

The next door revealed a room similar to Aybll's, but much more sophisticated, lacking the vibrant colors and numerous wooden toys adorning every shelf. Books were the rooms main inhabitant… particularly since the owner of the room was nowhere in sight.

Link watched as his wife frowned, and peered around the door. Her body relaxed a bit, and she grasped his hand, pulling him forward.

Caine stood on the small balcony outside his north-facing window, his teenage frame outlined by silver light, and a wind – which was stronger here than in the fields – playing at his long, black locks. His youthful face was tight in deep thought. His piercing gaze, which never wavered, seemed to stare at nothing.

"Caine?"

The eldest prince jumped, whirling around and letting his hand fly to the hilt of the dagger on his belt. He calmed only slightly when he took in the sight of his parents studying him.

"Yes?" Link couldn't miss the edge in the young man's voice.

"It's late," Zelda soothed, stepping further into the room. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

For a moment, it looked as though the fifteen-year-old would argue. But he clamped his mouth shut, swallowing whatever it was he had been planning to say.

"Yes, ma'am… I'll go to sleep in a few minutes." He glanced back, almost longingly, at the night abyss outside.

"Please don't sleep in your clothes again. You have night clothes; might as well spare the maids the trouble of removing wrinkles." As she spoke, Zelda went to Caine's wardrobe and pulled his night clothes out herself. Caine grimaced.

"Mother…" He was about to continue, but his sharp eyes darted to Link, who stood against the door, watching. Though Link didn't move, Caine stopped as if he'd scolded him, and stood erect once more.

"Yes, ma'am."

Link couldn't help but be concerned with the way his eldest son narrowed his eyes as he stared at the floor. There was a mild venom to his glare, but he couldn't be sure whether or not it was directed at his mother.

Once Zelda was finished, Caine lifted his gaze to rest on her as she stepped back to Link's side. She offered their son a warm smile.

"Sleep well, love." She approached him, and bent to kiss his forehead. Something in Link clenched when Caine moved his head to avoid his mother's affection. Though it seemed he had forced respect for a few moments, nothing in Caine had truly changed.

Not that they should have expected such.

Zelda let her shoulders slump ever so slightly, backing away from the boy. "Well… goodnight, Caine." She returned to Link again, glancing back when their boy didn't reply.

"Caine?"

He'd already turned back to the window, face lifted to the moon.

"Goodnight."

There was a curtness, and a dismissing tone to Caine's voice that Link knew the boy ought to be scolded for. But Zelda was tugging at his hand, beckoning him to follow as she strode for their own chambers. Link cast his son a last scrupulous glance before closing the door, and hurrying to follow after his wife.

They walked in silence, again keeping their steps light to minimize the noise until they reached the wooden floor of their room. With the door closed behind them, Link watched Zelda go to the bed and sink down onto the edge, her hands clasped in her lap and her gaze on the floor before her. The white, wooden cradle only a few feet caught his attention, though, and he strode over.

Erulissë lay with her golden curls piled around her head, her chubby thumb stuck in her mouth. Her smooth, porcelain-like skin reflected the moonlight and created a subtle glow about the three-year-old's countenance.

His first daughter. The most perfect baby girl in all of Hyrule. She was barely old enough to walk, and could only squeal the occasional half a word, and yet she still had somehow managed to have her father wrapped around her finger.

Arms wrapped about him from behind, and Link easily recognized his wife's tender embrace. He laid his hands gently over hers, leaning away from the cradle and sighing in contentment at the feeling of Zelda's body fitted against his. Taking her hand in his, he eased around to face her, tugging her closer and draping her arms around his neck. His hands settled themselves at her waist.

"I have to be the happiest, most blessed man in Hyrule, do you know that?" He leaned his forehead against her, closing his eyes at the smoothness of her skin. He felt her lips brush his.

"Come to bed?" She fiddled with his still-loosened collar.

She didn't have to ask twice.

~- LoZ -~

The boy's eyes were closed. But his unseen audience did not move, nor did it even twitch until the gentle, even rise and fall of his chest beneath the covers ensured that he was, indeed, asleep.

With a flutter of fibery wings, the shadowbat, keeping its scales tilted in their reflecting position as not to be seen should anyone else enter, or should the boy awaken, alighted on the headboard of the bed.

The prince did not stir. After a particularly deep breath, a lock of his black hair fell into his eyes.

Then, and only then, did it creep down onto the pillow beside the Hylian's head, and lean close to his ear.

"_They don't love you like they love _him_…"_


	3. Chapter 2: The Green One

**Chapter Two:**

**The Green One**

_"For love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame." ~ Song of Solomon 8:6b_

"Okay, I get it. I'll do it this time."

Abyll blinked against the dreads of blond that hindered his vision and, angling his mouth, he released a great huff that sent them flying from his forehead. They settled angled across the layer of hair that hung over the side, and he grinned. But, the results of his effort only lasted a few mere seconds before the bangs had slid down once more, catching his lashes and tickling his cheeks. He growled in annoyance.

Chuckling, his father lowered the wooden blade and stepped closer to him, using the side of his hand – Abyll's face seemed dwarfed in comparison – to brush them back, off the boy's forehead completely, revealing the stunning blue of his eyes.

"Better?" said Link, wryly grinning down at his son.

Abyll returned it almost identically. "Yes, but I doubt it'll stay."

Link laughed, kneeling down to his boy's level, lowering his hand to let the locks fall back into place. "You let it get any longer, and you'll have to start tying it back."

"I wouldn't mind. As long as Mum can't get anywhere near me with scissors. I like my hair! I want to be able to tie it back like yours."

"Oh, so that's what he's after."

Link looked up to where Zelda sat comfortably stretched out on a patterned quilt, cradling Erulissë in her lap, only a few meters away. A gentle wind made its way through the maze that was the royal gardens, playing at both of his girls' hair, the queen's russet locks blending with the princess' short golden ones. What a lovely pair they were.

"I didn't tell him he had to; don't blame me!"

Zelda grinned, giving no merit to the seriousness of her words. "Yes, but you could at least convince him that cutting it won't necessarily trim his… his bravery or anything. He seems to think that looking like you will make him courageous."

Whether or not he showed it outwardly, the statement made Link swell with pride. Abyll was only ten years old, and already sported such spirit and boldness. He won the hearts of any and all he spoke to with charisma and humility. He never ceased to boast of his father's tales of great adventures, supported by his mother, and he greeted each day with such contagious enthusiasm… Everyone loved him.

"I'm not that versatile. I can't do everything." Link's remark was met with a satirical grin, which he was about to return until arms were thrown around his neck. Abyll hugged his father with fervor. Link, though surprised, easily returned the embrace.

"Sure you can, Dat! You can do anything and everything! You're the Hero of Time!" The boy stepped back, keeping his hands firmly planted on his father's sturdy shoulders. "I can let Mum cut my hair if you really want me to."

He couldn't keep the smile off his face. The innocence on his son's face was overwhelming. Reaching up, he tapped the boy's nose.

"No… You keep it as you'd like. But… you'd better hope it doesn't hinder your sight…" In a flash, his hand flew behind his head and gripped the edge of his hood. He flipped the fabric over his head, letting the shadow cover his features. He drew again with flourish the wooden sword from the ground beside him, and Abyll leapt away.

"Alas, Hero of Time, doth we meet again!" said Link in his best mock villain baritone, brandishing the wooden blade. Abyll's eyes widened and he snatched up his own stick that served as his sword.

"Ye vile villain! Ye shall taste the steely steel of my blade! Have at thee!"

The two wooden weapons clattered together as the two engaged in a fearsome battle, trying to hide their grins of mirth. Zelda laughed at their antics, watching with keen interest, particularly when Link let Abyll thrust his stick under his arm. In dramatic fashion, Link fell to his knees.

"Ah! I am wounded!"

The young prince drew back his stick. "And now, foul fiend, you will trouble the kingdom of Hyrule no more!" He 'stabbed' the branch under Link's other arm and with a gasp of mock pain, the king sank to the ground and lay still.

Abyll was unable to hold in his giggles any longer. He dropped his stick and pounced on his father and both succumbed to the unceremonious fit of laughter that had plagued them since the start of their little game. Zelda, and even the little princess, joined in, laughing until their ribs hurt.

Link never tired of this, nor would he ever. The wholesome company of his precious family, the beauty of the gardens about them, and the momentary escape from pressures and curfews and politics. Basking in the glow of the innocence and freedom his children enjoyed, Link could recall what it was once like to be young, and carefree. Problems were irrelevant, so long as the sun was shining. Threat of the sniffles didn't matter when compared to the sheer joy spent in playing in the rain for hours. Consequences were nonexistent. And all was well.

Nevertheless… Life came knocking again.

"Your Majesties…" Estel's aged voice broke through their delight, and Link quickly sat up at the seriousness of it. The maid's wrinkle-lined face remained solemn as he let the smile fade from his expression.

"Estel? What's the matter?"

She heaved an exasperated sigh. "His Highness, Prince Caine, has disappeared again. His tutor left for a moment to speak with Lady Impa, and when he returned… the prince had gone."

Any traces of remaining mirth drained from Link's face, and he trailed a rough hand over his face. He suddenly felt very tired…

Zelda, in the meantime, had set Erulissë gently down onto the quilt and stood gracefully to her feet. "How long ago did this happen?"

"According to the professor, about twenty minutes."

Link frowned, pausing to pat Abyll's shoulder as the boy gazed confusedly at his parents. Standing up and folding his hood back, Link set the wooden sword carefully on the grass. "He was gone twenty minutes before anyone noticed?"

"The professor went looking him when he found the room empty. Only a few moments ago did he come to your room, where I was doing my rounds. He explained it to me. He hadn't wanted to concern you two, with what fun you were having out here."

_That prof deserves a right piece of my mind…_ Link shook his head, shooing away the thought. No, the man had only done what he had thought to be right at the moment. But it wasn't the first time this had happened; in fact, they had almost grown used to it…

He craned his neck about to look to his wife. They didn't have to say anything; Zelda would look after the children whilst Link went to search the village.

They all retreated back into the walls of the castle. Zelda disappeared up the nearest staircase, carrying their daughter on her hip and guiding Abyll by the hand. Link, in turn, made sure his cloak was clasped tight, and his sword was on his belt, before making his way to the front gates of the castle.

He ducked under the portcullis before it was even completely opened, and his quick stride carried him across the courtyard and to the gates of the wall. Just as he was about to hail the sentries, the wood and iron doors creaked and swung open.

_That was efficient…_ But his thought went unfinished as he caught sight of the reason the gates had opened.

Two guards dragged a thrashing boy into the courtyard. The boy's azure eyes flashed, and his black hair hung in his face from all the struggling. Upon meeting the king, the guards seemed surprised at the coincidence of it, and began explaining, but Link couldn't seem to focus on their words. His attention was instead transfixed on his son's face.

Caine wouldn't even look at him. He kept his head inclined, his gaze rooted to the ground at his feet. He remained slumped in the guards' grasp, as if content to let them bear the majority of his weight. There was no look of remorse in his youthful expression, only one of contempt, frustration…

"…Master Sword…"

Link's ear caught that name, and his gaze snapped to the guard who'd spoken it. "What-What was that?"

The guard looked confused at the king's distraction, but obliged to repeat it. "He was trying to open the chamber to the Master Sword."

"But how? You-"

The other guard answered the question before he even spoke it. "He had this."

He raised a gauntlet-covered hand, fingers loosely gripped a small, smooth blue object. Though it had happened before, Link felt the color drain from his face.

His own son had stolen the Ocarina of Time to sneak into Time Hall.

But… How had Caine known the inner workings of the hall? How could he have possibly known how to open the Door of Time, or even what song to play on the Ocarina? It was a lot of ancient keys to memorize… Who had told him?

Link heard himself sigh, and yet it surprised him that he had allowed the sound out of his mouth. He let the guard transfer the Ocarina safely into his hand; numbly, he nodded to the two, and they released Caine.

To their shock, Caine bolted for the castle. It was a good thing that Link had spent years in agility training to keep his reflexes quick, or else, the boy probably would have been long gone. But in a cat-like motion, Link twisted around and gripped the prince's shirt collar.

"I don't think so."

After dismissing the guards, Link led Caine into the palace, keeping a firm hand on his arm. Caine followed along sullenly, eyes downcast and hardened. The boy's muscles were tense, apprehensive, as if waiting for the moment when Link would release him. On they marched, Link guiding his son through the castle levels until they came to his room. Once inside, he shut the door and confronted Caine.

"What in the name of wisdom did you think you were doing!"

Caine's gaze drilled into the floor.

"Caine, look at me."

He didn't move.

"Now."

Then came the change. Caine raised his eyes to his father, and there was a look in them that frightened him. Yes, that frightened even the great Hero. The prince's eyes blazed in icy fire, and as if strings had been attached to his back, his posture straightened. He stood rigid, feet planted and arms tense at his sides. He hadn't lifted his face, but his gaze locked on Link's, glaring out from under the crest of his brow.

Blatant defiance.

"Yes… _sir_." The words were all but respectful.

Link held up the Ocarina. "Where did you get this?"

Caine actually dared to scoff. "Where do you think?"

"Watch your tongue, boy. I am your father; you will at least pretend to respect me."

"You always tell Abyll not to pretend to be something you're not."

A chill raced down Link's spine. Where was all this audacity coming from? Surely, it couldn't have sprouted in those mere twenty minutes of leaving the castle. _Dear Lord, grant me the patience not to… bite his head off…_

He took a deep breath, letting the anger ebb away. "How did you get out of the castle?"

Caine moved this time, leaning back to fold his arms over his chest. "The same way you always do when you want some time for yourself. I'm not stupid; those songs aren't that hard to memorize. Even Abyll knows most of them."

"All right…" He paused, thinking. "What exactly were your plans once you got there?"

"I don't have to tell you."

"Caine, I warned you-"

"You wouldn't be scolding Abyll like this if it had been him."

"And he wouldn't be talking back like this if it had been him! Caine, has this been what you've been trying to achieve every time you've slipped out of the palace? To reach Time Hall?"

Caine turned away from him. "What would you care if it was? The result of this conversation will be the same whether I tell you or not, so just go ahead and punish me. Get it over with."

Link gazed at his son's tense shoulders for the longest time. For reasons unknown to him, he felt the stinging pang of compassion. Something in Caine's voice had slipped, from protest to what sounded like… loneliness.

"Caine…" Link's voice had softened significantly as he tried to ease the irritable beast that was his son at that very moment. "Why must you keep comparing yourself to your brother?"

The prince seemed to hesitate, as if he hadn't expected such a blunt question. His shoulders dropped an inch. "…You're always with him. You always have time for him… Whatever he wants, he gets. Even the people love him, considerably more so than me. I've heard talk on the streets that they want him to be the one chosen to… inherit the throne. Yes, despite Rite of the Firstborn." Caine's voice was so low, now, that Link had to step closer just to hear him. "What am I… against him? Even if you did choose me in the future – if you were brave enough to go against popular opinion – there would be an uproar. The people, most likely backed by the Council, would force my withdrawal. And Abyll would be crowned."

Slowly, he turned back to his father. "You see now… why I _must _compare myself to him."

It was a long moment before Link could reply. "Where does Time Hall…" He didn't have to finish. By the look on Caine's face, all the evidence clicked into place. The Ocarina, Time Hall, Abyll… Caine wanted to test the Master Sword. If he were able to touch it, as Link could, then perhaps a scrap of his reputation may be saved.

"It doesn't take a sword to make a king, Caine. It's about his heart. It's about integrity, loyalty, morality, and justice. You've failed to show these qualities for so long… and yet your brother has no problem demonstrating them. The people look at what you do and what you say, and judge you by those things. Even if you could wield the Sword… there's a large chance it wouldn't change the people's opinion at all."

The prince looked crestfallen. His plan, which must have seemed so logical before, had been discredited.

"Caine, your mother and I love you… You know this, don't you?"

A trace of the fire returned to Caine's eyes and his fingers twitched. "…You had me fooled."

Link's anger collapsed completely. _What? _Could he have honestly failed that miserably in being a father that his firstborn doubted his love?

"Caine-"

"Don't say it. Now that you know where I stand, of course you would try to disprove it. But it'll take more than mere words to convince me after ten years."

_Ten years… _Since Abyll was born.

"Just give me your punishment and be done with it. Leave me in peace." Caine stalked to his bed and sank down onto the edge. Link remained frozen where he stood.

It seemed like hours of tense silence before he spoke again. "Stay here in your room. Your mother and I will discuss your punishment before supper. Until then…" A sigh escaped his lips. "Caine, truly… You may not believe it, but you're my son, and both your mother and I love you beyond what we can express in words. I'm sorry… if we've led you to think otherwise."

Caine said nothing, and did not even look up. So, with a heavy heart, Link turned and exited the room, looking back only once in time to see his son bury his face in his hands.


	4. Chapter 3: Extra Mischief

**Chapter Three:**

**Extra Mischief**

_"And he spake a parable unto them, Can the blind lead the blind? shall they not both fall into the ditch?_

_The disciple is not above his master: but every one that is perfect shall be as his master._

_And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?"~ Luke 6: 39-41_

"We can't just let it go, Link."

"I'm not saying we should."

"Then what do you propose we do? You want to lighten his punishment just because he's feeling sorry for himself?"

"Zelda, no. Not in the least. But… His voice – he genuinely believes we love Abyll more."

"I can see that, but…" She sighed, combing her slender fingers back through her copper locks, the action screaming with her anxiety. "We can't lift the punishment just because he's decided to believe that. What he did was wrong and a deliberate disobedience. He had no right to do what he did. And he _knew _it, Link! He knew what he was doing! It wasn't just some game he decided to play on a whim."

"I know that. Zelda…" He crossed the room, resting his calloused hands on her arms to cease her pacing. With eyes afflicted with uncertainty and concern, she looked up into his face. "Calm down. I'm not angry with you."

Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and she hung her head, staring down at the toes of his boots. "I… I know… I just…" She surrendered to his waiting embrace and sunk into his arms. "I just can't believe he did it… I could have never guessed it was so bad… Did we do something wrong? I mean… Do we treat Abyll with more… favoritism?"

"I didn't think so…" He encircled his arms about her small frame, the way he always did, as if to shield her from all the pain and hurt of the outside world. "But… I'm not so sure…"

He felt her arms tighten about his waist, and she buried her face against his shoulder. They shared their warmth so, drawing strength from one another.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know… We can confine him to his room, send him to bed without supper, increase his study hours, anything we can think of… But somehow, I don't think we're going to avoid looking as if we're confirming his suspicions."

"He'll claim we'd never do that to Abyll."

Link nodded. "That's precisely what he told me."

_What a mess this is_… And it was. It seemed that no matter what avenue of punishment Link brought to mind, the end result was imminent, inevitable. Caine was in a fragile state; wearing the mental blinders that he did, anything they deemed suitable could be seen as an injustice.

She rubbed her hands up and down his back, soothing him with the touch. "And we can't take the night to sleep on it…"

"Because I told him we'd figure it out before supper."

"I wish you hadn't."

Link allowed himself a timid smile. Ah, Zelda always knew how to make him relax. He feathered a careful hand over the falls of her hair, enjoying the silk of it and hoping to convey the same soothing as she was to him.

Then, a thought. "What about his rides?"

Zelda pulled away ever so slightly, blinking up at him. "You mean… The ones he takes in Hyrule Field? Prohibit those?"

He nodded. "For a time… I can't seem to come up with anything better."

"Surely the Hero of Time can think of a suitable punishment!" She cast him a wink, and it brought a smile to his lips.

"For vile villains and foul fiends, no problem at all! But for a stubborn son who's bent in jealousy… Now that's a bit more difficult."

~-LoZ-~

Caine could not believe what had entered his ears. A whole two months of no riding? How on earth would he survive? It was bad enough that he was confined to his quarters half the day, wasting away valuable time in his studies, without having to worry about being idle the rest of the time! Riding had been his escape, the time he used to unwind, forget about the trials of the day. And now… it was gone!

"You cannot be serious!" He stared incredulously at his parents who stood before him. His gaze darted from one to the other. "You're forbidding me to ride? You can't do that."

"Yes, we can," said his mother.

"And we are," finished his father.

_What did I say? They'd never forbid Abyll to play with his wooden swords as a punishment. They'd know it'd devastate him… But, of course, I'm not Abyll_.

"But… But…" Words failed him, falling dead on his tongue. What could he say? He'd been correct, not that he was surprised. Ever so predictable, they were. But alas, they were his parents. And until he was of age, he had no choice but to accept their terms in cowardly submission – as he always did.

"Caine, you're fifteen years old." Caine could never stand it when his mother spoke to him like that. "Surely you can accept due punishment with maturity; you're always so insistent that you be treated as an adult. Now is your chance to act like it."

_Why must parents be so infuriating? _"Yes, ma'am."

"Caine… You do understand that punishment is-"

"For my own good. Yes, father, you've told me time and time again. I'm not that forgetful."

As far as he was concerned, the conversation had served its due purpose. Without another word, he stepped out to his balcony. The evening air drew him, like a moth to a candle flare. Something about the way it lingered on his skin, brought gooseflesh to his arms, brushed the hair from his face. Like a beautiful, but oh so elusive woman, teasing at the touch, but never willing to be caught. Something in the twilight beckoned him, yet evaded him at every turn. He could feel a type of calling in his bones.

"Caine? Aren't you listening?"

"Yes." Lies slid so easily off his tongue now. He didn't even bother to feel remorse. He was never caught.

"So you'll try?"

"Yes, of course. As you wish." There went another one. _Try what, now…?_

"Good."

He could hear their footsteps scuffle on the floor of his room, and the door opened. He refused to turn.

"Goodnight, Caine."

He recalled what had happened the last time he'd neglected to return the sentiment. "Good night, mother. Father."

"Sleep well…" It was easy to hear the wariness in his father's voice.

And then, they were gone. Off to enjoy another night for themselves. Abyll was tucked into bed by now, his belly full from supper, and Erulissë slept half the time, anyway. It was merely Caine, and his thoughts.

And that ever persistent tug to the balcony.

~-LoZ-~

The council room was stifling. Not only with choking humidity that was rare for springtime in Hyrule, but also with the murmurs and bickering of the present members. Their voices seemed to increase in intensity and volume, and with each passing second, the headache in Link's temples grew steadily worse.

"I don't see how there's any question about it!" Ambassador Rihst, one of the more dignified of the representatives, let his haughty voice bellow out above them all. He stood rigid with his weathered hands leaned flat on the ledge of the long, cherry-wood table. "What started as mere rumors have become a painful reality. Prince Caine obviously shows no respect for Hyrulian law, spoken or unspoken."

"Here, here!" concurred Raen Sigil, a close friend and confidant of Rihst. If there was any you could bet your fortune on to support Rihst's political standpoints and opinions, it was Sigil. "When there is no confidence in an heir's ability to lead, the Rite of Firstborn can be bypassed. In transferring the inheritance of the crown to young Prince Abyll, we'll not only avoid potential disaster, but we would have the people's full support! A proverbial two birds with one stone."

"You gripe of Caine's blatant disregard for tradition, and yet you would so willingly cast off the Rite of the Firstborn, a right that has endured for ages within not only the Royal Family, but all of Hyrule?" Zelda's indignation silenced the lot of them. "Up to this point, I have put up with your contradictions, excusing them as ignorant pride, but to do so knowingly? That could be, by definition, deemed hypocrisy! Or worse yet, sedition! Can't you hear yourselves?"

Chancellor Thoron, one of, or perhaps, _the _oldest delegate in the Council, seemed to grip the air in his knotted fingers and pull the tension levels down several nocks. "In all due respect, Your Grace… But it is reasonable that you, of all others, would disagree with Sir Rihst's, and Sir Sigil's implications. You, after all, are the boy's mother."

The Council members murmured, most in agreement, and Link felt some of the slight respect he had for none but Thoron slip away. _How dare he speak so… _Despite the fact that he was, regrettably, correct.

"There's no way possible that you could assume an objective stance in this matter," Thoron continued. "Even you, our most wise Queen."

"Don't patronize me, Thoron." The venom in Zelda's voice was hard to miss, and her turquoise eyes blazed with the loyalty to her own flesh and blood.

"I was not patronizing. But even the strongest wisdom can be swayed by matters of the heart, as is obviously demonstrated by the ancient king Solomon."

This sent the Council into an uproar, and Link could sit idle no longer. He leapt to his feet aside his queen, and the delegates instantly quieted.

"You will hold your tongue, chancellor," said he, in a voice that was both firm, yet dangerously low. "You dare compare the Queen with one of the most evil kings in all of history?"

Thoron averted his withered gaze. Link, his eyes burning as he swept the room with his gaze, silently dared anyone else to confer. "Any other observations?"

One might've heard a pin drop.

"No? Good. Now." Link turned to address the Sheikah to his right. "Lady Impa?"

By the intensity of her red eyes, she looked to disagree with the Council about as much as they did. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"This discussion was not on this meeting's agenda, am I correct?"

She answered readily. "No, sire."

"As I thought." He swiveled to face the council again. "The Queen and I wished only to alert you of the situation, not to discuss the politics and decide on a solution this very moment. The prince is being punished as well as is possible, but we will not be so hasty as to cut him off from inheritance."

The hall was silent only a moment before Rihst spoke up once again. "Your Majesty, simply letting this matter fester will only delay the inevitable. And if I may be so bold, I don't believe you can present an unbiased view of this whole ordeal any more than the Queen can."

"And I suppose you can?" Zelda retorted. Link, meanwhile, recovered as if from a slap. How dare Rihst speak so brazenly! Yet each comment rang in his ears, each throb more painful than the last, only because Link knew… He knew that their words held merit.

"We know what the people want, and form our decisions accordingly. That _is _our job, Majesty." Rihst's voice simply oozed with faux modesty.

"That will be enough of your insolence, Rihst!" Impa snapped, throwing her fellow councilor a dagger glare.

Raen spoke instead of Rihst this time, as Rihst knew better than to go against the Sheikah's orders. "Of course _you _would side with them, Miss Impa, only because, aside from their parents, you are one of the closest people to the heirs as it is!"

"I am loyal to the Royal Family, first and foremost, second only to God himself. Or are you asking me to go against both of those loyalties now?"

The rest of the Council blatantly objected to this. Link slowly sank back into his chair, again one of the only ones not on their feet in a frenzy. His head ached so incessantly…

He'd always despised these meetings. It didn't seem to matter what subject was at hand, the Council refused to leave their social distinctions and personal political views out of it all. They'd done so when Zelda had become queen, when she had married Link, and even when Caine was born. They were consistently thrusting their unwelcome foot in the doors of all affairs of the Royal Family, in the name of the prosperity and peace of Hyrule. They thought they could use their status as council members to sway the sovereign rulers into governing in the way _they _believed would draw more voters in the next Council election.

Shallow. Link sincerely prayed that the outcome in the next ballot would change things…

Movement brought him back to attention. The Council members were leaving. The meeting was adjourned?

He felt Zelda's gentle hand on his shoulder. "Link?"

"Hm?"

"You look a tad dazed. Are you all right?"

He nodded slowly. "I hate these meetings."

She smiled half-heartedly. "I know. You make sure to point that out after every one." She winked at him, and he managed a grin.

"What are we going to do, Zelda?" His voice regained much of its previous seriousness and he rubbed a hand over his weary face with a slight groan. "It is true; they're not even of age yet and the people have already decided their favorite. The public supports Abyll as the next sovereign; what will that do to Caine?"

She shook her head solemnly. "I don't know… But we have time. As you said, we really don't have to worry about this until both of them are of age."

"Yes, but… Sometimes it _is _best to think ahead…" He sighed and stood, stretching his spine before running his long fingers through his unruly hair. "I just wish we could do more. And this council can be absolutely unnerving at times! I still don't know how you endured it alone before we were married, and I'm saying this after fifteen years!"

She laughed, a genuine laugh, and tucked her hand under his, on the crook of his elbow. "Come, my king. It would seem that we could both use a calming stroll through the secluded southern gardens."

At this, he beamed. "That, love, is perhaps the best idea I've heard all day long."

~-LoZ-~

The palace rested in peaceful slumber. Understandable, considering the late hour of half past midnight. The stars glittered in bright array this particular night, and the moon drifted across the sky, at its waxing gibbous stage.

Unbeknownst to anyone within the castle walls, the place was crawling with shadowbats. The prince's vulnerability had reached many a minion, and each new one that heard of it wanted a shot at filling his sleeping head with deceptions and false emotions. If only to see if he was really as gullible as they claimed.

Tonight was no exception. The hub of activity for the little parasites was, indeed, Prince Caine's room. The wretches had formed a sort of system, each one taking their respective turn to whisper into his ears as he slept fitfully.

"_It's injustice! How dare they punish you for something so obviously necessary. You were only trying to prove yourself to them; what was the harm in a simple experiment? Perhaps, had you succeeded, you would have been met with praise upon returning to the palace, rather that criticism and reprimand. Try again, if you must, but only after their guards have fallen…"_

But, something had changed tonight.

The parents, that blasted King and Queen, had interfered long enough. While his jealousy and self pity had deep roots after fifteen years, he was still emotionally attached to his family, which was deemed unacceptable – very clearly, by their master.

It was time for a diversion.

A few of the bats had maneuvered their way through the darkness and infiltrated the king and queen's chambers. When they had finally fallen asleep, two bats crept toward them, one to each royal figure that lay prone in the bed.

Mith shuffled to the king's ear. After snickering to his partner in crime, he leant in close.

"_You're such a sorry excuse for a king. You'll only let them all down, you know. Everyone looks up to you so much… But you're only human. Sooner or later… you will fall."_

Fin cackled quietly at overhearing Mith's whisperings. Then he huddled close to the queen's ear.

"_You can't tame him. He's a wild stallion. Trying to contain him is like holding the reins to a runaway bull. He has an adventurous heart; did you really believe he'd be content with the quiet life of a family, and the condemned pressure of the social realm? You'll see, very soon… He doesn't appreciate you. Any of you. Caine's accusations had to start with some sliver of truth, didn't they? The only reason he adores Abyll so is because he's just like him."_

"_Look at yourself. You don't belong here. You're nothing more than a goat herder! Trying to be a hero was enough, but you've gone above and beyond your natural element, this time. You're against some of the most ruthless villains of all time: the Council, the family… and the public. You can't even keep your own family intact! First Caine – soon, the others will follow. And it's all your fault."_

"_Poor, poor queen. He isn't content here. He doesn't want to be here, with you… He doesn't want these children, or these obligations, or these stuffy institutions. And one of these days, the pressure will force him to crack. He can't handle the weight of the job you lured him into. It's you're fault he's so unhappy."_

"_You're such a failure."_

"_You're such a failure."_

"_You can't even succeed in being strong for your wife."_

"_You can't even please him."_

"_And with your lack of power in the Council? She'd be better of without you."_

"_For all your regality and nobility, you're much too simple a woman. He'd be happier elsewhere, with a brave warrior of a lady at his side, with no children, and no ties to anything or anyone."_

"_**Poor, poor you."**_


	5. Chapter 4: Conspiracy

**A hearty thank you to those who reviewed. Any constructive comments are so very much appreciated, as they are often very motivating to hear/read. God bless you all!**

**~Penelope**

**Chapter Four:**

**Conspiracy**

_"Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous; but who is able to stand before envy?" ~ Proverbs 27:4_

_**Two months later.**_

There was nothing worse than a cheery, hot, busy day in Keskus. One in which the sun beat down mercilessly in rays of pure gold, in which the skies were spotted with giant puffy clouds that looked like candy floss – though more sinister-looking clouds hovered at the horizon – and the gentlest of breezes brought a certain freshness to the stuffy air.

What made things worse was the constant stream of people that now packed the marketplace, and the trio of kids Caine was trying so desperately to keep in sight.

Out of obligation, of course. His parents felt he needed 'quality time' with his younger brother, hence his presence in the market, of all places, as he watched Abyll roughhouse with his young friends.

The children maneuvered to the entrance of a side alley, a pocket of space which, thankfully, hadn't been filled by the evening shoppers. Caine avoided being mulled over by a rather large woman just in time to find himself face to feathers with a headless chicken on a rack. A shriek of fright threatened to burst from his throat, but he managed to swallow it. The vender of the cart snickered at his scare, and Caine barely contained a blush and continued on to where the others played.

Abyll was waving his wooden sword about dramatically. "Come at me, Ganondorf, and test your steel!"

Mitus Dor, a boy of the same age as the young prince though he was at least three inches shorter, pretended to draw his wood blade painted black from its sheath in his belt. "I don't fight my battles with blades, insolent Hero! I am a Wielder of Shadow!"

"Shadow cannot stand against the holy Light!" Abyll raised his left hand – though, in truth, their father's Triforce was on his right hand – in a fist and made a whooshing sound effect with his mouth. He jerked awkwardly, as if something had burst from his extended knuckles, and Mitus clutched at his chest, dropping his sword.

"No! No, the Light… It… burns! Ah! I can feel it… tearing at my insides… Veins bursting open…"

"Ew!" shrieked the little girl who 'cowered' behind Abyll. She had one of her waist-length golden braids wrapped about her hand, and her big, brown eyes were narrowed at the dark-haired boy.

"That was a little more detail than we needed, Mitus. You're so disgusting." Mellon wrinkled her nose at them.

Mitus shot her an innocent grin. "But that's how it works, isn't it? Abyll, tell her that's how it works."

Abyll smiled a knowing smile and shook his head at his friends, as if he were much older and more mature than they. As if he knew all the answers, and knew just the right thing to say. "Well, Mellon, it is true that darkness can't stand against light, but…" He turned to Mitus. "That was a bit disturbing."

"What!"

Mellon stuck her tongue out at her brother. "Ha! See?"

"You're s'posed to be on my side!"

"I am," said Abyll matter-of-factly. "But I'm on Mellon's side, too. You're both right."

"Still." Mellon folded her skinny arms over her chest, throwing her brother a pointed look. "Mum will _not _be happy to hear what you said. Where on earth did you get that, anyway?"

"I can read." Mitus' voice had dropped considerably, and his dark gaze retreated to the cobblestone at his feet as he bent to pick up his faux weapon. He carefully brushed the dust from its surface, gingerly as to avoid splinters.

"Little boys your age shouldn't be thinking of such things." Mellon turned to Caine. "Isn't that right, Caine?"

_Oh, brother… _"Well…" He leant back against the brick wall of the building behind him, folding his arms over his chest to appear mildly concerned. "It really depends on their interests."

The little girl was incredulous. "…You must be joking."

With an inward smirk, he shook his head. Girls were so easy to tease. "No; honestly."

Her smooth brow furrowed in a look of confusion. "Well, then… Your interests are real history. Facts, science. Why don't you be Ganon? I doubt you'll be so melodramatic."

_Oh, dear… _"Uhh… No. How about not." Not good. The last thing he wanted to do was take part in his little brother's stupid games. Particularly as Ganondorf. Against Abyll, as his father. Besides, he was much too levelheaded, and definitely fairer than the Dark Lord had ever hoped to have been.

"I think it's a brilliant idea!" Of course Abyll would agree. "Oh, please play with us, Caine! Please!"

"_Just for today, be nice to your brother. Play with him; you make him so happy. He looks up to you, honors you. Respect that." _He let a resigned sigh escape his lungs. It would seem, by order of the queen, he had no choice in the matter.

But of course, the queen wasn't here…

Wait… No, a brilliant idea came to him… What fun he could have as Ganondorf, the Dark Lord, chasing the Hero of Time, the princess, and their friends about? Oh, the possibilities…

He pulled his hood up and snatched the black sword from Mitus' grasp, making the younger boy stagger backward. As Caine rose to his full height – a tad more than six feet – a cold wind rushed through the city streets, making his cloak play about his legs. He gripped the sword with firm knuckles, and closed his eyes, bowing his head. He had to get in the mood…

"Half moon. Orion to the south, upright, the dippers to the north, the Triforce directly overhead. A storm gathers on the horizon… Darkness draws close. And here… the Dark Lord of the desert… and the legendary Hero of Time meet once more…"

The three children gaped at him as he chortled darkly, so convincing was his act. Mitus trembled slightly.

"Black and white. Sun, and night. A battle to the last death. A showdown that will go from history to legend to myth, but never forgotten. For the world shall feel the earth tremble as their battle rages… if the warrior is brave enough to meet my challenge? Dare you cross blades with me, boy!"

Abyll jumped before regaining his composure, his boyish expression hardening as he took a valiant step forward and brandished his own wooden sword. "I will more than dare, villain! With this sword, I will defeat you! My God will deliver you into my hand!"

Caine gritted his teeth. This role was far too easy to play. "Foolish boy. Your arrogance will be your death." With that, he thrust his sword at his young brother. To his surprise, Abyll easily parried, most likely a result of the mild lessons their father had been giving him. _Yet another thing he failed to do for me_… But he'd been taking lessons from Lady Impa for years, and his parents still didn't know. Of course, he'd never told Impa that; as far as she knew, they had granted Caine permission to learn the ways of the Sheikah.

_This is for all the times you were too busy to spend time with me… _Caine swung ferociously, and it only aggravated him further as Abyll blocked each stroke with flawless accuracy. He clenched his jaw; how on earth could a ten-year-old be so good at fencing!

It was brief, but he caught a glimpse. A very small glimpse, of a marking on the back of Abyll's right hand.

_A Triforce!_

It wasn't possible! Fury billowed within his heart. Abyll got the best of everything! Even blessings from God Himself! What did that mere boy do that Caine didn't? Caine was every bit as good as Abyll, if not better! But no, Abyll was the chosen, the favorite, the _perfect_ one!

Unknown to him, his blows came faster and faster. Abyll was quickly tiring, but Caine didn't care. Adrenaline and anger pushed him on, driving him to near madness in his jealous red haze. Only when he felt the wood give after a blow did he shake himself from the rage to see what happened.

Abyll's sword lay several feet away, and Caine's was pointed firmly at the boy's throat. Abyll was smiling.

"Wow…"

"By Jacque, that was incredible!" came Mitus' voice from behind him, and Caine craned his head to see the Dor children staring at him with glee. Mitus came bounding up to them. "I didn't know you could wield a sword like that!"

"You play a better villain than Dat!" said Abyll, beaming.

Their enthusiasm, however, did nothing to lighten Caine's mood. Darkness swirled in his mind as he glowered; he could only think of that wretched triangle on the back of his younger brother's hand. How could it… How could this happen? It never should have been like this… It wasn't supposed to be! Caine was the firstborn! He deserved everything Abyll had been given, and more! Not that Abyll didn't deserve certain gifts, but to steal everything that rightfully belonged to him? Hatred pounded at his head like the ringing bells of the castle tower.

Slowly, very slowly… a plan began to form in his mind. A vile plan; a despicable plan… but a very plausible plan. One that perhaps could go toward evening out the playing field. Because Caine knew plenty more than his brother did… and he had his brother's trust. That was a massive advantage.

"Those clouds are getting closer…" Mellon gasped. "I just saw lightning!"

Mitus fidgeted, studying the approaching anvil-tops. "I think… I think we should head home now. Mum and Papa would want us there before the storm hits."

Abyll nodded, going to retrieve his sword. "Perhaps we should all head back home?"

Caine said nothing as they bid their goodbyes, and the Dor children disappeared down the suddenly vacant market street. As Abyll began his march toward the castle, Caine caught his shoulder.

"Wait, wait!" He lowered his voice, giving his brother a conspiratorial grin. "Do you want to see something amazing?"

The boy's eyes widened. "…Like what?"

"We'd have to walk… But it isn't far. Just across Faron Field. We can get there and back before the storm hits, I think."

To Caine's delight, Abyll was beginning to get excited. The boy's blue eyes twinkled with intrigue and fascination. "Really? Tell me what it is, Caine? Please!"

Caine grinned wider. "I'll tell you when we get there. Come on; hurry, now!"

It took a long while for them to cross the southern Hyrule fields, not to mention maneuver the forests that surrounded the Sacred Grove. By the time they stood before the ancient pillars of Time Hall, the wind had picked up significantly, and rain was beginning to fall on the two princes.

The guards instantly tensed as the boys approached, and one stepped forward. "Halt! Who…" He got a better look at them, and Caine offered him a mild smile, though he wasn't able to hide the slight smirk. The guard blanched.

"Your Highness…" His eyes hardened, most likely as he recalled Caine's previous visit to the Hall. "What are you doing here?"

"Our parents said it was about time Abyll saw… what is inside Time Hall." Caine didn't want to give anything away to his brother just yet. He stood behind Abyll, his hands on the boy's shoulders in a very paternal way. Abyll beamed up at the guard, bouncing with his excitement.

The guard's expression softened. _Yes… Just let us in. That's all you have to do. Just look at the poor kid; he's practically bursting with enthusiasm! You can't say no to that… _Casting Caine one last disapproving glance, he stepped aside.

"Very well… But the weather's taking a turn for the worst. You'd better be in and out in a few minutes, and we'll lend you some horses to get back quickly."

Caine nodded, and forced his voice to sound excessively pleasant. "Thank you, good sir. We shant disappoint you." This was more or less true. Most likely, they _would_ be in and out within a few minutes.

He led Abyll up the long stone steps that led to the main entrance of the great hall. Upon entering, they found it to be rather warm, heated by the torches on the wall, and the fire pit in the center of the circular floor that was kept blazing by the hall's attendants. Just opposite them, loomed a great, intimidating door. An island of stone with a slanted top sat just in front of it, with three glittering jewels inlaid in its face.

"That is the Door of Time," Caine explained upon seeing Abyll's expression of wonder. He smiled; his impromptu plan was working perfectly. "It is forever sealed unless opened through the placing of those stones there – the Kokiri Emerald, the Goron Ruby, and the Zora Sapphire – and the playing of an ancient song on this." From the satchel hidden at his back, Caine revealed the stunning blue Ocarina of Time. Abyll's blue eyes widened further, if that were yet possible.

"Beyond that door," he continued, "lies the Pedestal of Time. In which sits-"

"The Master Sword," both boys said at once. Abyll could no longer suppress his grin of elation.

"Do you know the song to open it? Please say you do, brother!" Abyll bounced on his heels impishly. Caine chuckled.

"Only because you insist." He put the Ocarina to his lips, and skillfully began playing the Song of Time. The eerily beautiful notes drifted from the instrument, dancing on the draft and playing over their heads. The stone walls provided perfect acoustics. If he did say so himself, he played the song better than even his father could. And that was saying something.

The Door rumbled and quaked. A sliver of light shot from its center top to the bottom, forming the seam of the doors. With a resounding crack, the shaking stopped. All was still as Caine drew out the last note.

He approached the door, and gave it a shove. It swung open easily, and Abyll couldn't hold still.

"That was fantastic! How did you know how to open it?" said the boy, excitement tainting his every word.

"I'm an expert on Hylian history, remember?" Guiding Abyll inside, Caine cast a wary look over his shoulder. The guards were still outside; the main doors remained firmly closed. Good.

The pedestal of time was a grand sight to lay eyes on, indeed. The stories told of its awe-inspiring image well did it justice. Since the new hall had been rebuilt about it after the Twilight War, the sword had no longer been opened, but remained enclosed in walls of wood, and stone. Such a sorry waste…

Caine glanced to his brother, and was pleased to see the look of reverence on the boy's face. Slowly, he spoke in a hushed voice, as if speaking too loud might disturb the sword's resting place.

"They say that only the true Hero of Time can wield the sword… Only the chosen Hero can pull it from that pedestal. Like Father can." For a moment, Caine's gaze darkened as he saw, in the shadows of the room, the Triforce on Abyll's hand give a slight spark. Abyll, himself, however, did not notice. Thankfully.

Abyll stepped toward the sword as if pulled by some invisible rope, or magnet. Caine grinned darkly.

"Do you think…" Abyll's voice was hesitant. He cocked his head at the sword. "Do you think I can touch it?"

Caine shrugged, trying to appear passive. "Perhaps… There is only one way to find out."

The younger boy looked confused, furrowing his brow. "But… What does it do to those who aren't supposed to? Doesn't it shock you?"

_Play on his ego… _"Yes, that is true… But… Maybe you wouldn't have to worry. You're Prince Abyll, after all! Hyrule's greatest prince! You're stalwart, brave, smart, humorous… The people love you, Mother and Father adore you over all others. You're everyone's favorite!" An idea dawned on him; he could use Abyll's Triforce to his advantage. "And… you know what else?"

Abyll looked up at his big brother expectantly. "What?"

"I noticed something as we were playing. Look at your right hand."

After taking a moment to remember which hand was his right, Abyll lifted his hand. His brows shot straight up when he took notice of the strange marking. "What… I… Is that…?"

Caine nodded eagerly, feigning anticipation, while inwardly he glowered at the distinguishing mark. "It's a Triforce. You must've inherited it from Mother and Father. Which makes sense, considering you show signs of both wisdom and valor – er, courage, that is."

Abyll stared at the mark with wide-eyed innocence, as if he were staring at someone else's hand. Caine took the opportunity to turn the boy back to the pedestal.

"Perhaps you are tobe Hyrule's next Chosen Hero. All signs point to it… Why _wouldn't _you be able to touch the sword?"

Abyll looked up at Caine, eyes wide in awe, and the humanity in Caine felt an annoying pang of guilt. Those young eyes were so full of trust, nearly brimming over with respect for Caine and his word. _How can you do this thing to your own flesh and blood? _The voice irked him. He drowned it out easily with a single glance at Abyll's Triforce.

"You really think I can?" Abyll's voice had gone so quiet, Caine almost didn't hear him. Quickly, he nodded, flashing his little brother a reassuring grin.

"I don't know… You can try, if you'd like. Just… be careful."

There. A flit of emotion across Abyll's face, easily recognizable as anticipation. The boy turned away from his brother, and slowly approached the pedestal. Time itself seemed to slow as he mounted the first step. Caine involuntarily wrung his hands together.

He slowly, ever so slowly reached out to the sword hilt, his little fingers shaking. Whether it was from fear or excitement, Caine couldn't tell. Those fingers reached within a few inches of the blue leather, and hesitated.

_Come on, come on… _

Abyll touched it. Thunder clapped outside, making Caine jump. Light exploded from the sword's hilt and what looked like static danced over the younger prince's frame as Abyll seemed to convulse, jerking in an erratic spasm, his hand seemingly glued to the hilt. A blood-curdling scream erupted from the boy's lips and, with one last burst of electricity, he was thrown backward across the room like a weightless ragdoll. He rolled to a stop, face to the floor… and didn't move.


	6. Chapter 5: Initiating War

**Chapter Five:**

**Initiating War**

_"And they will deceive every one his neighbour, and will not speak the truth: they have taught their tongue to speak lies, and weary themselves to commit iniquity." ~ Jeremiah 9:5_

Streaks of salt sat uninhibited over her cheeks. With her back bent, she barely acknowledged the tomblike silence anymore, as she had become accustomed to it over the past few hours. Not a thing stirred about the once bright and cheery room. Even the curtains, which had always been opened to let the sunlight stream in, were pulled tightly shut.

The curtains were shut. The thought drew her from her daze long enough to hurriedly go to the window and throw back the drapes. He loved the sunlight, no matter how dim it may be through the darkening clouds. He always wanted the sunlight. He needed the sunlight.

The adrenaline boost lasted only a few mere seconds before she turned back to the prone figure on the bed, as wearisome as she had been, if not more so. There he was, as still and unmoving as before. Despite herself, she had hoped that when her back was turned, perhaps there would be a change… He would sit up, smiling that beautiful smile like he always did, and wonder why everything was so sad today… He'd comment on how even the clouds looked as thought they were about to cry, how gloomy and grey they were.

But his face was still pale as a ghost, his blond hair damp and darkened from sweat of fever. He twitched occasionally, most likely the result of dreams – dreams that Zelda felt a motherly urge to shield him from. But she couldn't… She went back to her chair and sunk into its cushions, much to the protest of her back and legs, which were by now sore, understandably so, from being in the same position for so long. But she wasn't willing to leave him even a moment – he could wake up at any time, and she wanted to be there when he did.

The image of the three horses thundering into the castle courtyard flashed in her mind. Upon seeing the guards' and Caine's distraught expressions, she had alerted Link and hurried down to the castle's grand foyer. The threesome were just coming in; one of the guards had cradled Abyll's small, limp body in his arms.

"_He touched the Master Sword, Majesty." To her surprise, the soldier's voice was thick with emotion. "I've never seen a reaction this bad."_

She remembered how her heart had sunk like a rock in the ocean, how her throat had constricted so tight, she felt she would burst. Abyll was only a boy; a very small boy. The effects on any common adult to touch the sword were bad enough; touch it long enough, and your hand could be forever deformed. But on such a small boy… It was obviously disastrous.

Her throat tightened again. She reached out to gently caress her son's heavily bandaged hand. The doctor had been unable to uncurl his small fingers, short of breaking them, so tense were the muscles there that he feared the damage was permanent. It grieved her to see her little boy in such pain…

Raised voices emanated from across the hall, muffled by the door of Abyll's room. Though she couldn't understand what they said, she heard the frustration in their tones, and knew exactly who their owners were.

~-LoZ-~

"Why on earth would you take him to see the sword?"

"He wanted to see it!"

"You lied to those guards."

"They wouldn't have let me in if I hadn't!"

Link ran a hand over his face, trying to keep the anger from his expression, and his voice. Caine had a retort for everything he said, refusing to catch his drift. Any attempt to point out the wrong he had done, and the prince easily deflected it. "I'm very disappointed in you."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

The contempt in Caine's voice shocked him. Even after months of this attitude, it never seemed to level out. It kept escalating and escalating, and Link didn't know how much longer Caine could bear it.

"Caine… A part of me thinks you somehow knew this would happen! You're a very smart boy, and you know the history and logistics surrounding the Sword. Did you want Abyll to touch it, perhaps to see him hurt?"

Hurt and betrayal took hold of Caine's face, twisting his features as he stepped back, almost warily. It made Link's stomach drop with guilt, but it had to be said! With all that had happened recently, it was a very possible notion.

"You're choosing his side over me _again_?" Caine's voice rose a whole octave, and distress clouded his face. "What kind of a father does that?"

"Caine-"

"No! I'm tired of it! Sick, and tired of it! I don't want your explanations; I want you _out_! Out of my room, out of my head, and out of my life!" There was no over exaggeration or melodrama to his voice. Caine was deadly serious – very evident in the fury blazing in his eyes. Link didn't know whether to be furious at the boy's gall, or disappointed in the obvious hatred with which he saw his own father.

Caine, in the meantime, whirled around and stalked to his balcony. He seemed to retreat there often, and Link or Zelda had many a time found him gazing out over Hyrule at twilight, as if there was something out there that only he could see.

Link knew he had to fix this somehow. The thoughts that had haunted him for the past few months returned in full force, but he pushed them away. He couldn't afford to think that way now! He took a hesitant step toward his son.

"Caine…"

Caine stiffened. "Get. Out." He slowly turned back to him, and the pure ferocity in his gaze made Link shiver.

"Caine, listen-"

"Get out! I said get out, and I meant it!" In a fluid motion, Link saw Caine move and in the next moment, a book hurtled through the air toward him. He managed to duck, and the book clattered against the far wall. Silence took reign once again. Caine attempted to calm his breath whilst Link stared at him, aghast. What had possessed Caine as to push him this far? Certainly it wasn't simply what had happened to Abyll. It seemed that Caine's wrath had no bounds.

Link knew that pursuing resolution would get no further tonight. Caine didn't want him there, as he so vehemently stated, and there was nothing he could do at the moment. He had no choice but to leave.

"All right, Caine… I'm going." He stepped toward the door, watching as Caine kept his harsh gaze on his every move. When it was clear he would not change his mind, Link resignedly turned for the door.

Sorrow crashed down on him like a wave. Had he truly been such a terrible father that Caine wanted nothing to do with him? If so… What had he done wrong? Why couldn't he figure out where the mistake had been? And what of Abyll, and Erulissë? … Would they grow to hate him, too?

Perhaps his thoughts were right… Perhaps… though it pained him to admit, this wasn't the life for him. Maybe Zelda – and the children – would be better off without his presence…

"Father."

Link whirled at Caine's address, a very dim hope igniting that perhaps the boy had changed his mind. But the young prince was back at his balcony, gazing out. When he turned, Link saw easily that the contempt hadn't left his gaze.

"Yes?" While Link's mind had resigned, he couldn't help the hopefulness in his voice. Caine didn't take notice.

"Look out a window."

A window. Not 'come here, look' or anything close to welcoming. Just 'look out a window'. With that, Caine turned back to look out over the dreary landscape. Link was dismissed, just like that.

With his heart heavy once more, he exited the room, being sure to close the door behind him. His gaze was drawn to Abyll's room, where he knew Zelda sat, restlessly awaiting Abyll's wake. His queen… needed someone right now… But a chord in Caine's last words struck him wrong, and his curiosity was peaked. Caine wasn't usually cryptic; he most likely had literally meant for Link to look out a window. And judging by when he said it, he probably also meant a window that faced the same direction as the balcony.

Link didn't have to go far – just down the hall and around the far corner – to find one. Brushing the bangs from his forehead, he looked out over Hryule.

The effects of the dry year were so very evident, it pained Link to see. The once lush, green grass was now splotched with ugly brown and tan – the color of death in nature. The tree branches danced in the fierce winds of the oncoming storm, and lightning bolted through the clouds. The clouds that seemed to get darker and darker the further away they went…

No. They were black. And only in one spot. In fact, that was not the clouds at all. It almost looked like…

Smoke. Billowing from just beyond the horizon to the south. It almost looked like it was coming from…

Link's jaw slackened with horror. _Ordon_. No! Any place but Ordon!

Instinct seemed to take over; the familiar feeling of adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he whirled around and bolted for the nearest staircase. He descended as fast as he possibly could, not even concerned about falling. It seemed to take ages, but he reached the throne room, startling the guards who stood rigid at their posts.

"Sound the alarm!" His own voice sounded foreign to his ears, much harsher and louder than the voice he'd used when speaking with his son. Just the abruptness of it made the guards flinch. "Dispatch a group of soldiers on our fastest horses and make haste for Ordon! The village burns!"

To Link's short-lived relief, the guards sensed the direness of the situation and two immediately disappeared out the front doors. Link addressed another pair, giving rapid-fire commands.

"Ready a regime to follow after the emergency troops, packing supplies and extra horses. Alert medical personnel and inform them of our departure. It looks like a nasty one; they'll need quick relief. Impa!"

The Sheikah, who had most likely heard the ruckus and come to investigate, straightened. "Majesty?"

"Get word out to the city here; if it's an electrical storm, we don't want anyone outside. Including guards! Issue the command for them to retreat to their guardhouses."

"Yessir." Without another word, she slipped out the doors and was gone. A young page hurried to come when Link beckoned.

"Ready Epona, Cam. Try to beat your previous record! Quickly!"

The boy nodded and dashed away, bursting out the doors and leaving Link in silence. Without wasting a moment, the king whirled and hurried back up to his chambers, to his study.

As he took his thickest cloak, his telltale cap, and his war-battered but ever faithful shield, he suddenly whirled when he heard the creaking of the door. Zelda jumped, and he immediately softened, particularly at seeing the redness of her eyes. He set the shield on the bureau and stepped up to her. She instantly wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You're leaving." This was not a question.

Link stroked her shoulders as he nodded. "I must. Ordon – or someplace very close to it – has caught fire. Probably a lightning strike. They'll need help; I can see the smoke from here."

She sighed against his shoulder, tilting her head to plant a soft kiss on the fabric of his tunic at his chest. "Be careful… I don't need to worry about you, too, right now."

So Abyll hadn't improved. That much was obvious from her voice.

"I promise." Reluctantly, he stepped away from her, reaching back to firmly grasp his shield. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"The Lord be with you." She gave him a slight bow, as she always did when he slipped into his 'Hero face', as she called it. He smiled and bowed in return.

"And with you, my queen."

"I love you."

"And I love you. Pray, Zelda. For Ordon, for Hyrule… for Caine and Abyll."

~-LoZ-~

Caine watched with bland intrigue as the smoke billowed from the south like a great, black monster rearing its ugly head. That was most likely Ordon Village, or at least one of the pastures or woods or fields surrounding it. With how dry a year it had been, it was no small wonder that lightning had set it ablaze. As expected, his father had dashed off for Ordon; Caine had been able to hear the king's orders all the way on his level.

Try as he might, though, he couldn't keep his scorn for his father bound. It ran wild in his mind and heart, brimming over like the pus of a wound long infected. But this time, there was no medicine, no soothing salve to take away the sting and heal the scar. The way he saw it, it was no use trying anymore. The pain, the rejection, the bias was here to stay. And with that resignation, something in his heart began to hurt.

Why? Why were his eyes burning? It wasn't as if he could've expected anything more or less. They loved his brother. And they despised him, distrusted him like a common rabble-rouser. Of course, he knew in his heart that his father's accusations had been true, but the very fact that his own father would suggest it unknowingly was almost too much to bear. Did they truly think that low of him? Did they truly have so little faith in him, so little trust that they would so readily assume? Caine leant heavily on the rail of his balcony, hanging his head in despair. Was he truly so worthless?

A racket arose from within his room, and he whirled around. A shadow flitted back into the blackness of the corners of the walls, and all was still again. A feeling of wariness accompanied a chill up his spine, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He cautiously made his way through the glass doors and into the dark of the room.

Nothing stirred. It was so still, it was unnatural.

A pile of books strewn on the floor beside his small, round table caught his eye. Hadn't those been on the table before? How had they gotten on the floor? In fact, a number of things had been on the table's surface. A glass of tea, now spilled on the tile, some sheathes of paper and a quill pen, and a bottle of ink, all scattered about at the table's feet.

Caine approached, and was about to bend to pick up the items when the table surface caught his eye in particular. Upon closer inspection, great unorthodox letters had been gouged into the wood. Long, primitive strokes, and four short words.

_Come_

_Time_

_Hall_

_Now_

What on earth? Who had written this? Surely no one could have come into his room so quietly! But… who else could it have possibly been?

Still. The message said to go to Time Hall. And right now, no less! Whoever had done this had to have been right there, and written it very quickly, because he had just been writing in his journal a few mere minutes ago, before his father had come in. The table had been perfectly normal.

After one last glance out off the balcony, Caine fetched his cloak, his boots… and his saber.

He was going to Time Hall.

~-LoZ-~

To Link's relief, and yet horror, it was not Ordon's village that burned, but one of its adjacent crop fields. The dry vegetation fed the fire all too eagerly, and all efforts to hinder it had failed. Evening darkened the skies – it had taken several hours for the larger regime to reach Ordon – and the village was taking the necessary precautions, as the wind was from the west, and drove the flames closer and closer to the homes of the people. Link and his men continued to try desperately to contain the flames.

"Dear God, help us!" cried one of the soldiers as the flames roared fiercely. "Help us, please! Save these innocent people!"

Link shook his head as something wet splattered on his nose. Another landed on his forehead. He looked up at the churning clouds above, and a sense of vertigo overcame him. For a moment, it was as if a raging sea stretched out above them. And then, he saw it. The wall, the great shimmering curtain… of rain.

It overtook the landscape far faster than the fire, and as it reached the soldiers and the villagers, many began to shout and dance for joy. The rain came down in heavy sheets, hard and fast, and the fire slowly died.

Link's relief nearly drowned him. He tilted his head back into the rain and lifted his hands, smiling as he felt the heavenly water quickly soak him. His heart swelled with thanksgiving. Not only had their prayers been answered in the slaying of the fire, but the countryside finally had rain! Sweet, cool, drenching, much-needed rain.

Songs of praise began to rise from the village nearby, and Link knew that the people had emerged to celebrate in the rain they had so thirstily prayed for. _O God, you are so good…_

He gripped the saddle horn suddenly as Epona lifted her front end off the ground, squealing triumphantly and pawing at the air with great strokes. Link laughed – had it really been that long since he really, truly laughed… It felt good.

He hoped the rain would do well to lift Zelda's spirits as well. It was only a matter of time before it reached Keskus.

~-LoZ-~

Caine kept to the wall of Time Hall as he carefully approached the front doors from behind. The guards stood under the short roof that the pillars supported, he knew, because of the rain, and he'd have to take them out quickly. After today's earlier episode, which they most likely blamed him for, there was no way they were going to let him in.

Something in him wished he could just run those pigheaded guards through and be done with it. But the better side of him didn't quite feel like becoming a murderer any time soon… He peered around the corner of the building. There the guards stood, faithfully, at their designated posts. Didn't they ever get bored?

He silently drew his sword. He only had one chance at this… Faster than a blink – indeed, faster than Caine had expected of himself – he leapt out at the guard closest to him. The man gave one yell of surprise before the hilt of Caine's saber slammed into his temple. He fell in a heap at the prince's feet.

The other guard, as expected, had easily seen it and came barreling for them. Caine got in two steps of a running start and spiraled over his head, landing gracefully on his feet behind him. Chuckling, he swung his arm, sword hilt extended. The guard had barely swiveled before he was lying unconscious on the hard stone aside his cohort. Chortling, Caine sheathed his sword. And that was that.

That had almost been too easy. The king obviously needed to improve the protection of the Great Halls.

He pushed through the front doors and into the silent sanctuary of stone within. The fire, by the looks of things, had gone out long ago, and only charred embers and wisps of smoke remained. The atmosphere was cold, and considering he was already soaked to the skin, Caine shivered.

"_Play the song," _croaked a strange voice, who's rasping tones echoed over the marble. Caine jumped; he had assumed he was alone. His gaze darted about, searching for the voice's source, but found nothing. Who had said that?

"_Play the song."_

The song… "Who are you?"

"_Play the song."_

Caine growled in annoyance, but then stopped himself. Perhaps this was the one who had put the message on his table. If so, he needed to act courteous, or they would be less obligated to explain to him.

"You mean the Song of Time?"

"_The Song of Time. Play the Song of Time."_

Okay. Clear enough. Caine dug in the pouch of his satchel and withdrew the Ocarina. He positioned his mouth on the mouthpiece, and slowly began to play. The notes, as always, were fluent and stunningly eerie. The mysterious audience said nothing until the last note was played, and the Door of Time was opened.

"All right. I played it. Now what?"

"_Draw the sword."_

"Draw the sword? Are you insane? That thing nearly… nearly killed my brother only a matter of hours ago."

"_Draw the sword."_

Caine didn't know who or what this thing was, but it seemed to have a knack for being repetitive. It was irking. "All right, all right…"

Something he hadn't felt in a long while welled up in his chest. Something like fear. What would it do to him if he wasn't meant to draw it, as was most likely? Abyll got the best of everything, and if Sir Perfect couldn't draw it, then surely Caine couldn't.

There it was. The Master Sword. Sitting locked in the stone pedestal in all of its unhindered splendor. Thunder rumbled outside, almost like a setting drumroll. Caine swallowed and was glad he had brought gloves. They would perhaps deaden the shock. Though… they were soaked… _Strike that idea._

"_Draw the sword."_

"I'm drawing! Patience is a virtue." Caine sighed. It was now or never. Better to get it done and over with quickly. He strode to the pedestal, and latched his hand over the hilt.

Nothing happened. No surge of energy, no electric shock, no pain… Nothing. Caine barely contained a gasp of surprise. His left hand joined the other and he gripped the hilt firmly in front of him. Still nothing.

A grin tugged at his lips now, and with a grunt, he pulled the sword from its resting place. It came free much easier than he'd thought it would, and the extra momentum made him stagger back. But he barely noticed. He was holding the Master Sword in his own hands, the mighty blade held out before him.

He… was the Chosen Hero?

He gave a short laugh. Then more laughter proceeded to burst from his throat as he wielded the sword about. The maniacal sound echoed through the hall until he finally quieted, bringing the blade up in front of his face.

"I am… the Chosen… Hero." He chortled darkly. "Ah, take that Father. Now what do you think of me?"

"_Good, good. Now, touch the stone."_

Caine frowned, at both the reminder of the strange voice and the words it spoke. "Stone? What stone?"

"_This stone."_

Something flashed in the corner of the room, and Caine turned to investigate. Sure enough, a great, multicolored gem sat upright against the wall. It had to be perhaps the largest jewel Caine had ever seen! It looked to be about as big as his head! Good sir, that was a big stone. That alone could earn a man a fortune; one would never have to work again! How it had gotten here, Caine couldn't guess. But the voice had been right about the sword, and it now wanted him to touch the stone, so he would. Without hesitation, he reached out and splayed his palm against the gleaming rock.

Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't. A strange sensation shot up his arm. There was a blinding flash of light… and then darkness.

~-LoZ-~

"My king! My king!"

Link reined Epona around to face the speaker in the crowd. He spotted a man hastily making his way through the people. "Peace to you!"

"The Lord has been good this day, but I only wish the good tidings could last." The elderly man's voice was filled with a collage of emotion – something like sorrow, anger, and warning all stirred together.

Link frowned, and dismounted his horse to meet the man on the correct level. But as people began to follow the king's gaze, a wide berth suddenly opened about the stranger. Link could clearly see the man before he even reached him. He carried something rather large over his shoulder… And the sight of it made his stomach churn.

"This fire," said the man with passion as he stood before Link, "was no accident." He dropped a very heavy, very dead grey dragon onto the ground at Link's feet. The people murmured, and some gasped and moved back.

A small creature, it was. Very small compared to certain infamous dragons recorded in Hyrulian history. But, it was still a dragon. And dragons hadn't been active in Hyrule for generations.

"The dragons have returned!" cried the dragon's courier, his beard twitching as he spoke. "And they come for revenge!"

Link gripped the man's arm, and spoke in a low voice in his ear. "Don't say such things so loudly. I would like to avoid as much panic as is possible. But listen here – what makes you claim these things?"

"They know of our plight – our lack of rain these past few years," he answered. "I watched it set this field – my field – on fire with my own eyes! I shot it down before it got away. I hit its wing, and its belly. It was alive when I found it… but dead before I touched it."

A frown crossed Link's face. "The wounds were fatal?"

The man shook his head. "No, no, my lord. It laid its beady eyes on me, shouted something in a language I couldn't understand, and put something small and round into its mouth. It collapsed mere seconds after biting down on it."

Realization dawned on him. "Some sort of suicide capsule… But… why? What on earth did it have to hide?"

The man shook his head, his grizzled eyes wide. "I only wish I knew. But, if there's one thing you can be sure – this, I fear, is not the last of the dragons we shall see. Where one is found, a dozen more appear! They are coming, my king… And soon."


	7. Chapter 6: Draconic Appearences

**A/N: **Okay, a few quick questions to help me in future writing:

How are the characters' personalities, particularly Link's and Zelda's? This is, after all, my first Zelda fic, and I've never played any of the video games, save _Super Smash Bros. Brawl. _I'm just kind of… judging by research and what I gather from collaborated fanfics.

Is the plotline still holding your interest at this point?

Is anything in particular cheesy or OOC, or just needs a bit of work?

I'm not sure any of these will get answers, but… It's worth a shot. Happy reading!

**Chapter Six:**

**Draconic Appearances**

_"For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, your tongue hath muttered perverseness." ~ Isaiah 59:3_

Shem's eyes opened slowly, and then quivered against the rain-spattered wind. His head rested against cold stone, and columns loomed to his right. The sky was notably dark; the sun must have begun to set. The torches provided the most light over the white stone walls. What… What had happened? He and Arron had had retreated under the protection of the overhang of Time Hall, then…

A flash of black. Flaming blue eyes. A sword hilt.

The prince!

The prince had attacked them! Anger and indignation welled up in his chest as he moved to sit upright. Pain made his skull throb and he brought a hand to his forehead. Ugh, that kid packed quite a punch! He pried off his helmet and felt along the roots of his hair, wincing as his fingers came in contact with a very tender, very large bump. Yes, quite a punch, indeed.

The king would hear of this. Shem swore to that.

He scrambled to his feet, and shuddered at the loud clomping of his heavy boots. Arron still lay on the ground behind him, a trickle of blood running down his forehead, most likely from the blow that had been dealt to him. Poor fellow; Shem knelt at his side.

"Arron!" He bit his lip, and shook the other soldier's shoulder. The other man groaned and swatted Shem's hands away, and Shem couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief. At least he was alive.

"Wht… Wht-hppend?" came Arron's slurred voice. Shem pried off his comrad's helmet to examine his wound.

"Prince Caine happened. Knocked us both over the head. He probably went into the hall." Shem grimaced at the good-sized cut that oozed blood on his friend's head. "Got you pretty good, by the looks of it."

"Thhha prince?" Good; he was a bit more coherent.

"Yes. Can you feel anything? Are there two of me?"

Arron still sounded very groggy, and garbled as he spoke. "There's on'y one o' ya…" He frowned, as if concentrating. "An'… My head 'urts."

He frowned at the grin that spread over Shem's face. "Believe it or not, that's a good thing."

Arron took a few moments to glance about, and his gaze paused when he looked at the entrance of the hall. "The door's open…"

Craning his neck, Shem looked and saw that the doors were indeed hanging open. The blasting wind whistled as it rushed inside and whirled around the circular room within. That could only mean one thing… The prince hadn't left yet.

"You don't suppose he's still there…" Shem stood, motioning for Arron to stay put. "You stay here… I'll take a quick look."

"Careful, the li'le bugger's armed…" Arron groaned as he attempted to sit up. Shem chuckled and drew his sword, making his way to and through the great doors into the Hall.

All was silent, save for the soft clip of his heels on the stone floor. Something in the air made his hair stand on end, and a chill raced up his spine. If the prince had been in here… wouldn't he see him? And yet, there was no movement, no sound, no evidence at all to the presence of anything living. The hall was empty as a graveyard, or worse, like a void. Through the open Door of Time, Shem could see into the next room, to the Pedestal of Time. The stone platform was empty. The Master Sword was gone.

"Why, that little…" A glimmer caught the soldier's eye.

There was the sword. Lying on the ground, alone, as if someone had dropped it.

A frown took hold of Shem's features. "What in the-"

An ear-shattering shriek reverberated about the hall, and Shem dropped his sword, clapping his gloved hands over his ears. Something large and hulking moved to his right. Just as he staggered back to avoid it, a blast of red-hot flames poured from the shadow, revealing a horned, toothy head behind it. Shem raised his hands to shield his face as the simple force of the outburst threw him backward, off balance.

"Dragon…" he managed to wheeze as he peered over his gauntlets to the hideous beast that stalked toward him.

Black as night, it was, and just as fearsome. Its eyes glowed white as its teeth and even in the dim light, its armor-like scales and cruel spines and spikes glinted like polished metal. Its pupil-less gaze was fixated on him, and its wings quivered with each deliberate step. Those eyes… The drew him in, like a whirlpool of wickedness. They glinted with bloodlust.

Shem's gaze fell to his sword, which lay on the floor just at the dragon's feet. Why, oh why had he dropped it? He rather needed it at the moment…

"Arron!" The word had barely left his lips when the dragon leapt at him, gaping jaws open and jagged teeth glimmering.

~-LoZ-~

Arron jumped to his feet, and grimaced as blood rushed to his head, making the wound throb insistently. He rubbed a hand over his face in hopes of waking himself up. Had Shem just screamed? Or was he losing his mind?

A long scream of agony easily answered for him, and he shuddered as it was cut off with what sounded like a gag. What in heavens name…

Still disoriented, he lurched for the doors and stumbled in like a drunken man. If only his Lilah could see him now… His feet rooted themselves to the floor. Bile rose to his throat.

Blood. Red, hot, and sticky. Everywhere. The place stank of it! All centered about the mangled body of a man. Shem!

He would have rushed to his friend's side if not for the rumbling growl that came from the devilish creature that loomed over the body. The dragon loomed tall; Arron could only guess it to be twice as tall as he – at least twelve feet, perhaps more. It regarded him with white eyes – cruel, sightless eyes.

Now, Arron didn't think himself a coward. He had been awarded medals by his beloved king and queen for bravery, and honor. But the sight of the beast's claws drenched in blood, Shem's blood, and the sheer size of it… His hands itched for his sword, but he knew that to do battle with the monster alone was suicide, whether he was injured or not. And if he was slaughtered as well… This entire happening could go with no clues and no witnesses. And with the prince missing, they needed all the information they could get.

So, with a pang of guilt, the soldier turned and fled. He fled Time Hall, into the drenching rain. He fled the Sacred Grove, fled Faron Field, fled the permanently etched memory of that creature crouched over his friend's body. Though he heard no sounds of pursuit, he kept running, ignoring the lightness of his head, determined to reach the Keskus castle as soon as was humanly possible.

~-LoZ-~

The night had dominated Hyrule for many long hours by the time Link and half of his soldiers returned to Keskus – the other half had stayed behind in Ordon, just in case the dragons dared attack again. All of them were soaked to the bone, dirty, and tired, and quite miserable. The initial glee at the long-awaited rain had washed away like so many particles of dust off their armor. Now, the only thing Link – and, he could only guess, his men as well – had on his mind was supper, a hot bath, and crawling into bed with his sweet wife. But, of course, his men would be thinking of their own wives, not his… Or, they should be, any how… He must have been tired. His thoughts were rambling.

After dismissing the soldiers, Link and Epona trudged through the Inner Wall's gates, which the sentries had opened, thankfully, without being asked. The rain continued to fall heavily on them as Cam the stable boy came to take Epona to the stables. Link trusted the boy to take care of his beloved horse, and went straight inside to the warmth of the castle.

Servants immediately hounded him, babbling on about catching fever and what not. Link simply strode past them, and retreated right away to his chambers, where he replaced his drenched clothes for warm, dry ones and started a fire in the fireplace. When flames licked eagerly at the logs, and after he had hung his wet clothes over the mantelpiece with his boots aside the bricks, he sank into the plush chair beside the hearth and propped his now bare feet near the fire, letting the warmth flood over him like a blanket.

He didn't even stir when he heard the creak of the bedroom door. Only when he felt a warm body climb into his lap, and soft lips touch his own, did he crack open his eyes. Zelda rested her delicate head on his shoulder, her big, beautiful eyes gazing up at him from under her thick lashes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching a hand up to stroke his face. "I didn't mean to wake you."

He smiled, and shook his head. "No… No, this is just about what I need right now…"

Her hand slipped over his shoulder and began to massage the taut muscles at the back of his neck. He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out with a moan, as the tightness began to ease away. Ah, yes, he very much needed this…

"Abyll woke up." Zelda's voice was still quiet, and her lack of enthusiasm damped his response.

"Really?" He opened his eyes further, and looked down at her. She nodded.

"For a little while. He'd just fallen asleep again when Impa came to tell me you were back."

The news lightened his heart, and he rested his head against the chair back, closing his eyes again. "Thank the Lord… Let him sleep, though. He needs the rest."

"His fever is still burning hot… But it certainly hasn't dampened his spirits. His first complaint upon opening his eyes was that he was hungry." Link felt Zelda smile as she leaned on his chest. "He had a little milk, and some crackers… Link… He will get better… won't he?"

The concern in her voice was nearly overwhelming, and he shifted to gather her in his arms. He rested his cheek against her hair. "Of course he will. He's strong. And the effects of the sword aren't lasting. He'll be back on his feet in no time."

Zelda sighed, and he felt her relax against him, but he knew she wasn't completely convinced. It would take more than mere words for her to be sure their son would make a complete recovery.

The door opened again, and both the king and queen lifted their tired heads to see who had entered. Impa stood, a hand on the surface of the door, her normally harsh, fiery gaze softened at the sight of them curled up in the chair.

"Abyll is awake again, Zelda." Impa was among the few within the castle walls on a first name basis with the royal family. "He's asking for the both of you."

Link and Zelda looked to one another, and he let her ease off his lap before he stood himself. He stretched, and suddenly doubled over as she jabbed him in the stomach, making the breath whoosh from his lungs. With a girlish giggle, the queen darted for her superior advisor, and the two women disappeared into the hall, their laughter floating back to the room. Link grinned wryly to himself and quickly followed after.

The threesome reached the door to Abyll's room at the same time, and Zelda pushed the door open quietly. There was Abyll, still lying on his back covered in blankets and looking rather pallid, but awake nonetheless. He turned his head as they entered, presumably since he didn't possess the strength to lift it.

"Mum, Dat…" His little voice was weak, but the precious smile on his cherub-like face chased away the worry in Link's heart.

"Hullo, precious," said Zelda, nearing the bedside and placing a hand on the boy's forehead, brushing his bangs back. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired…" Abyll's eyelids drooped.

"Understandable." She bent to plant a kiss on his forehead.

Link approached the foot of the bed, and Abyll gazed wearily up at him.

"I couldn't touch it…" Sadness tinged his voice. "I'm not a Hero… Not like you…"

Link frowned, and went to the other side, sitting carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Abyll… Don't worry about that. What matters is that you're safe and sound – or, getting there at least." He offered his son an encouraging smile.

Abyll managed to return it feebly. But it was quick to leave his face and he looked up at his father imploringly. "Where's Caine?"

_Caine? _"Caine? Uh…" He glanced at Zelda, who shrugged confusedly. "I don't know… I suppose we can go get him…"

"Can one of you stay?"

The innocence of the request brought a proud smile to his face. "Of course. Mum can stay; I'll be right back."

"I love you, Dat."

Link's eyes burned at the overexposure to his son's innocence. _Oh, where did that pure faith disappear to… _"I love you, too, son."

He stepped out of the room, and paused to gather himself again. The innocence of children too often faded as one matured into adulthood. The faith in others, and the ability to trust so easily died away as knowledge of the world and its sins crowded in. It was a shame, really. Though ignorance was not something to be coveted, there were times he wished he wasn't so scarred from his struggles as Hyrule's Hero. He'd seen things that even many adults would like to pretend never existed, had witnessed horrors of war and wickedness in very tangible ways. It was things like that that broke the hold of child-like innocence, and tainted one's mind to suspicion, lust, and vengeance.

Link's hand paused at the doorknob to Caine's room. Perhaps he shouldn't have been the one to come… He recalled the conversation he'd had with the older prince earlier. Caine most likely didn't want to even lay eyes on him, much less talk to him and come talk to Abyll. But still… Abyll wanted to see him. Link had told him he was going to get his brother, and get his brother he would.

He opened the door. Darkness greeted him, along with silence. The room looked the same as always, with the exception of one thing.

Caine was nowhere in sight.

Link noticed this immediately, and the first place he looked to was the balcony. It was second nature for Caine to be there, but alas, the prince wasn't there either. He searched the entire chambers, and came up empty handed. Going to the table, he leaned on it jadedly, hanging his head. His fingers brushed over something harsh, and he recoiled.

Light gashes on the table's surface caught his eye, and he furrowed his brow, rotating about the furniture to read it correctly. The words '_Come Time Hall Now' _were carved in the smooth wood.

What on earth? What was that supposed to mean… And when, and who, had put it there? Caine surely wouldn't be so primitive… Not when his journal, ink, pen, and paper lay scattered about the floor.

Dread swelled in his gut, and he couldn't shake the ghastly feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Unwilling to linger there any longer, he hurried to exit the room and made his way back to Abyll's chambers. He quickly opened the door, and stood in the doorframe.

"Caine's not in his room. I'm going to check around the castle," said he, and Zelda stood from where she stroked Abyll's hair.

"How long has he been gone?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you might check the library, or the study. You know how he likes his solitude."

Link nodded. "Right."

As he left the room again, he could hear Abyll inquire of Zelda, "What's happening, Mum?"

"Nothing, love. You just rest now…"

Their voices drifted away, and for the second time that day – or perhaps in two days; Link wasn't sure if it was before or after midnight by now – he rushed down the stairs to the next level down, where the castle's library was. He had just reached for the knob when a voice stopped him.

"Your Majesty!"

Link whirled to face a royal guard who strode down the hall to meet him. Upon saluting, the soldier stood rigid.

"A guard from Time Hall has come, requesting your audience. He's… rather riled, sire."

"Riled?"

"Delusional, almost. He keeps raving about a dragon, and a dead man… I would fear him drunk if it weren't for the genuine… fear in his eyes."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first dragon incident today…" Link combed his fingers through his hair with a longsuffering sigh. "Take me to him."

The guard nodded and turned on his heel to lead him down to the main level, to the throne room at the front of the castle. There, in the center of the room, where four other guards surrounded one man. The Time Hall soldier. As soon as the man laid his wide eyes on Link, he pushed all the harder on the perimeter about him.

"Your Majesty!" He had a crazed look in his eyes as he managed to escape the other guards' grip on him. He stumbled forward, blood staining his hair, and fell to his knees at Link's feet. "Majesty… I saw it! I-I… Blood… He's dead…"

"Calm down, man." Link's voice was calm, and cool as he tried to make heads and tails of what he was saying. "No one can understand you."

The man slowly raised his head, taking a deep breath as he did so. His expression seemed to calm a bit. He reached his shaking hands up to Link pleadingly. "There was… A dragon."

"At Time Hall?"

"Yes…" The man nodded. "And… Caine."

Link furrowed his brow, and tilted his head with confusion. "Caine was at the Hall again?"

"Yes… and… h-he's d-dead…"

His heart quenched like someone had taken it and wrung the blood from it. "C… Caine is dead?"

Link didn't know whether to be angry or relieved when the soldier shook his head. "No… Shem… The other Time guard… is dead."

"Did Caine kill him?" Just that thought left a bad taste in Link's mouth.

"No. Dragon…"

"What about Caine? Is he all right?"

"Caine… Before… Before the dragon… Knocked us unconscious… W-Went into the Hall. When… Shem woke me up. He… went inside… The dragon… killed him."

It was starting to make sense, now, but the lack of one particular detail left Link feeling cold and near the verge of panic. "What about Caine? Did you see him? Where is he?"

"He… I… didn't see…" The soldier seemed to think a long moment, his eyes darting back and forth as if observing the scene in his memory. "He… wasn't there."

Link forced himself to be calm. "And… what of the dragon? Was it slain?"

He shook his head. "No, sir… It… I left it… I knew I had to come report it… Without getting killed myself…"

He was calming, that was good. Link could understand most of what he said. "All right; that's all right. Was there anything else? Anything else you saw that caught your eye?"

The man pondered a while longer, and suddenly his eyes bulged. He gripped Link's arm so tight that he winced, and stepped away from the again crazed Time guard.

"The sword… The Master Sword… Was drawn. Lying on the floor behind the dragon."

Link's eyes widened. The Master Sword… Drawn, and idle… The dragon…

_Caine._


	8. Chapter 7: New Dawn, Red Dawn

**Chapter Seven:**

**New Dawn, Red Dawn**

_"Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened." ~ Romans 1: 21_

The mighty wind fought against him like a worthy battle opponent. His wings were his swords as they cut through the air's defenses and caught on the updrafts. The clouds cooled his leathery skin, and perspiration began to form on the rough surface of his scales, building until it dripped in streaks down his long, narrow face. Every inch of him buzzed with adrenaline, from the horns on his snout to the long, pointed tip of his tail, from the tips of his arcing wings to the end of each reptilian toe.

Caine had never felt so alive.

He tossed his head, feeling the extra weight of the horns on his head, and cackled. The laugh was low, and throaty, and he couldn't help but think how masculine he sounded. How strong, and intimidating, and insurmountable. Up here, amongst the previously-thought-untouchable clouds, no one could own him. He had no ties, to limits, no rules, no stifling code of etiquette to follow.

He was free.

He never wanted it to end. He watched from the best viewpoint he'd ever had in his life as the sun tainted the grey of early morning with its sweet golden light. It was as if the dawn was for his life, as well. A new chapter in the life of Caine Taurë. He let the light wash away of his old life. He began anew, right here, right now.

Not that he had much of a choice… He still had traces of blood between his scales. Though he couldn't remember how it had happened, the image of the guard's mangled body in his claws as the red fog cleared would remain permanently etched in his mind. If he ever returned to Hyrule… He shuddered.

No. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. He would never return anyhow, and in no way was he willing to spoil his newfound freedom.

Swiveling his gaze, his eyes found the small black dot of the strange bat that guided him. Its voice had matched that of which had told him to draw the sword, and it had confessed to the scratched message in the tabletop. Now, it led him to a great leader, whom the bat claimed welcomed all castoffs and society rejects. The creature had been right in its judgment thus far; what reason did Caine have to distrust it now?

Caine shifted his grasp on the sword hilt he clenched in his fist. With the extra muscle and strength of a dragon, the blade now felt light as a feather. It amazed him how quickly something of such grand history, the source of myth and legend, could be so easily stolen away.

Ah, what could his parents possibly be doing at that very moment? They'd probably already heard of the Master Sword's disappearance… Scrambling for answers, beginning a nationwide search for the sword, worrying over poor, sick little Abyll…

_But not concerned for me. _The thought threatened to dampen his amazingly cheery mood. No, his parents wouldn't be looking for him… In fact, they probably hadn't even realized he was gone. They'd be so busy with their affairs in everything else that it could even perhaps be days before anyone took notice.

But that was no longer any of his concern. What his parents did about the nation's squabbles didn't merit his interest any longer. He shoved the thoughts aside, and buried them beneath mounds of self-indulgence. The brightening skies, the wind in his face, this was his reality now. And nothing was going to take away from the triumph he felt.

The bat fluttered about like a drunken butterfly ahead of him, weaving to and fro as if dodging something, though there was nothing to dodge. Caine watched him with mild amusement until a great blue mass below drew his attention.

The Great Sea. It stretched out before them like an endless mirror, reflecting the morning sun's glorious light, and the pale pink of the sky in a display of color and beauty that would rival any artist's greatest work. Truly, nothing compared with the beauty of nature. Caine inhaled the crisp air deeply; he could smell the sea salt. Far below, he heard the faint caw of the gulls on the shore.

"Where are we going?" he called ahead to the little black creature. It didn't react in the least.

"Hullo? I asked, where exactly are we going?"

"Dragon Island." The answer was short, and curt in its raspy little way.

_Oh, of course. Silly me; thank you very much. _Caine rolled his eyes. While his guide had had a tendency to be repetitive back in Hyrule, it had obviously taken a liking to being silent and elusive.

No matter. He could wait. He was in no hurry to get back to solid ground, and as the wind whipped him upward like a kite, he released a laugh of pleasure. Angling his wings, he turned to arc into a downward spiral. The thrill of freefalling made his heart leap to his throat, and upon extending each wing, it dropped to his stomach as he jolted to a stop. The stop and go of his now much greater momentum was something to get used to, but he didn't mind so much.

As his gaze darted about the clouds surrounding them, he could imagine it a great obstacle course. Oh, the possibility of fun was endless! A particularly tall hill of a cloud caught his eye and he dove for it, laughing as he soared through the air. He waited until his claws just barely brushed the condensed moisture before angling his wings and shooting right up the incline, over the crest, and down the other side at high speed. He let out a whoop as he bucked, and dodged, and spun like kid goat out to play.

"Hush, hush, foolish boy!" screeched the bat, just barely able to move out of the way before Caine collided with it. "Humans will see you."

Caine slowed, flying alongside the little creature, and his smile lingered. "Why? We're miles from the surface. Besides that, we're over open seas. No one can hear me out here!"

The bat turned to glare at him, and Caine's brows raised. "Pirates sail unknown waters. Besides, clouds echo loud noises. Very easy."

Picking up its pace, the black thing darted ahead and only slowed back down when it was a good ways ahead of him. Caine cocked a confused brow, staring thoughtfully at thin air. He lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, and sped up as well, falling into a steady flight pattern just behind the bat.

Caine could only guess how many hours had passed judging by the sun's position in the sky. Tracing along its path, he thought it to be just before luncheon. Perhaps about the same time as his father's morning ride…

_Why do I keep thinking of them? _Caine clenched his jaw as the bat began to descend, shaking the thought from his head. They didn't merit any wasted headspace. It only served to ruin his mood.

As they broke through the clouds, Caine finally laid eyes on their destination – a great, circular island that looked like one, giant crater. A volcanic island, perhaps? They swept in low, skimming over the water of the surf before angling over the jungles lining the beaches. There wasn't much vegetation on the island, it looked like, but what was there was so dense that Caine couldn't see through the tops of the trees to the ground below.

They hovered over the treetops until the jungles came to an end, and what lay beyond was nothing more than a barren wasteland. The heart of the crater, most likely. Steam rose in great columns from geysers along the bottom, and both he and the bat dodged several before they reached what looked like the mouth of a cave. The bat didn't hesitate, and Caine looked about in awe at the sheer size of the opening. One could've fit the entire throne room of the castle in that entryway, with a little extra space on all sides!

Why on earth would they need such a massive door? Then again, perhaps they didn't put it there. Perhaps it was an old magma vein that had burst there on the side of the mountain, or something of that nature. Yes, that would explain a few things…

It soon grew so dark that Caine could barely see the bat ahead of him. Only the occasional glint of its strange scaly hide told him of its location, and he constantly altered his flight to keep from falling behind or worse, running into some unseen obstacle. He didn't know how that bat… Oh, that was right. Echolocation. Now wouldn't that be a handy talent… If only dragons could do the same. That would be grand.

"Take left tunnel," rasped the bat from ahead, and the fluttering of its wings grew distant, to the left. Caine barely had the time to angle his wings before he collided with something hard. The stone wall.

Dazed, he gathered himself off the smooth surface of the floor and shook his head to clear the stars. Oh, brilliant; now he was all turned around. Which direction had that little imp gone…?

"This way!"

He jumped at the voice that sounded just by his ear. How on earth had that wretch gotten so close without him hearing? He rubbed the side of his head, which still throbbed from the bat's loud voice, and he stood, this time following on foot. For the longest while, only the lonely sound of his claws clicking on the stone accompanied him.

Then, a light grew ahead, steadily coming closer. It wasn't long before he could make out the silhouette of the bat ahead of him, and Caine picked up the pace, shifting into an easy trot. _Aha! I'm trotting! I never thought I'd be able to do that._

Just as they neared the exit of the tunnel, a great plume of steam shot up before them. Having no time to slow down, he closed his eyes against the scalding water and jumped straight through it. He felt the heat through his scales, but otherwise, emerged on the other side unharmed. Ah, the benefits of dragon scales.

Shaking the hot water off his face, Caine swiveled his neck about to take in the cavernous room. His eyes widened as the room's main inhabitant stole away his gaze.

Treasure. Mound upon mound of it! It covered the floor like a heavy carpet, and light from the cracks of magma at the edges glinted off the billions of coins and jewels. It died the room a fiery red.

"Boy!"

Caine tore his gaze from the riches and found the bat. His gaze only flitted over it, however, as a colossal black mass demanded more attention. And quite suddenly, he felt like crawling into a hole and disappearing from sight. He curled into himself, making his body as small as possible in the shadow of the great beast before him.

The black dragon, as big as the castle of Hyrule itself, stared down at him with an empty expression. Its eyes, though, were intense as it seemed to stare right through him.

"Welcome, Prince Caine of Hyrule… to my humble prison."

~-LoZ-~

Link's stomach churned. But he, unlike most of the others, had seen many gruesome sights in his time as Hyrule's Hero, and the great pool of blood about the cold body only served to remind him of the evil that wandered this world. He hung his head, and let his breath out in a quiet sigh.

"Take the body to the Pit, and alert the clergyman that there will be a burial service with the ashes tomorrow morning."

He tried not to look at Sir Arron as two soldiers hurried to do as they were told. Shem and Arron were apparently second cousins and close friends; Link now understood why the man had been so distraught upon his arrival to the castle earlier that night.

As his men set about cleaning up the sickening mess, Link made his way deeper into the Hall, where the Pedestal of Time sat empty, sword-less. He approached the platform, and stepped up onto it, looking about the room. His gaze swept over the floor in search of the sword, which Arron had said laid on the floor just in front of the pedestal. But there was no sign of it anywhere.

What he did catch sight of, though, was the subtle glint of blue along the wall. He quickly leapt off the platform, his boots clomping on the smooth stone of the floor, and strode toward it. Stooping down, he clasped his hand around the Ocarina.

So Caine had been here… But still so many questions remained. Did he have the Sword? Had the dragon gotten hold of him? If so, where had it taken him? There were no other signs of a struggle, or a kill. Caine, the dragon, and the Master Sword all seemed to have vanished into thin air. There had to be more… Something, something he was missing. But as he studied the room, scrutinizing every corner, only blank stone met his probing eyes.

Heaving a much heavier sigh, he sank against the wall, clutching the Ocarina close to his chest. He hung his head, letting his chin come to rest on his knuckles. _Oh, God, guide us… We're lost… And so is Caine. _

~-LoZ-~

Months passed. Though they refused to acknowledge it, hope was beginning to fade like the evening sun, sinking slowly behind a horizon of troubles, and despair. Autumn came, and rain hadn't fallen since that day of the fire in Ordon. Crops were meager; many barely had enough to feed their families. The royal storehouses were opened, and they lifted morale for a while, but more effects soon arose.

Ponds and rivers shriveled. Many were forced to dig their wells ever deeper just for sufficient water supply.

Then, a new plague. A disease began to spread through the cattle, and other livestock. Farmers claimed that animals that appeared perfectly healthy one day were found dead the next. From goats to chickens to cows, and even a few horses, none were exempt from the strange sickness, and the market suffered greatly from the losses. And because of the unknown origins of the virus, no one dared eat the remaining livestock for fear of being infected as well.

On top of it all was the issue of the dragons. Since the fire, more and more citizens had begun to demand open war on the dragon race. And so far, the only thing keeping them from it was the lack of dragons to declare war on. They were elusive, like phantoms, coming mostly at night and only to set fire to the dry fields. No stock was taken, and the fires killed very few. But it was enough to set the people into an uproar. It had gotten to the point where the people were threatening upheaval, and the overthrowing of the monarchy if only to be able to declare war themselves.

Hyrule was floundering, struggling just to stay afloat in a sea of hardships. And it only made matters worse as foreign conditions became strained. Ships, particularly merchant craft from Termina, were disappearing at sea, and the countries began to blame Hyrulian pirates, and accused the monarchs of becoming lax in their punishment of such terrors of the high seas.

"We dealt with the pirates years ago." Zelda's voice startled Link out of his train of thought, and he physically jumped. His wife laughed.

"Where on earth were you, Link?"

He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "I'm sorry, love. What were you saying?"

"You were in Herclia again, weren't you?" said the queen with a smile. Link cocked a wry grin at her. Though, in truth, he hadn't thought of the country beyond Termina in the longest time…

"No, actually. I was just… mentally summing up Hyrule's troubles." He sank further into his stuffed chair by the hearth, simply wanting to disappear between the cushions and sleep for a few hundred years.

Zelda got up from her place at the vanity, tying off her braid before she gently eased into his lap. "Link…" There was a hint of worry, and chastisement to her voice.

"Not blaming myself, Zelda…"

"You must not have gotten to Caine, then, in those thoughts of yours, hm?" She knew him and his thought process well. She knew he would've reached that subject quickly, and added it to the things whose blame he shifted to and tried to bear on his shoulders.

Link swallowed and dropped his gaze away from her. The worst part of the past few months in Hyrule was Caine's lengthened absence. No one had seen hide or hair of the young prince since that fateful day, and most of the kingdom's subjects had, to their monarchs' horror, resigned to the theory that he had simply been carried off by that dragon as an easy meal.

And as Zelda knew very well… Link did blame himself. He simply hadn't tried hard enough to resolve things between them, and it drove Caine away. Maybe for good…

"Link," she said it more insistently this time, clasping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "Stop it. It is not… your fault. Understood?"

He couldn't answer. He searched her gaze, as if he could grab a hold of the faith and love he saw there, but it slipped from his fingers. He felt alone, though he knew very well that he was anything but. And in the intense stare of her eyes, it was as if she could stare right through his mental defenses into the depths of his soul.

"Promise me you'll stop blaming yourself." He voice had dropped in volume to a near whisper. "It's so dangerous, Link… I can't lose you, too."

His immediate reaction was indignation. "Of course you won't lose me!"

"Link…" Something in her voice stopped him. He could see every detail of her lovely eyes, and he saw moisture brimming on the edges. "Please."

_Ugh, I'm such an idiot… How dare I waste all this time wallowing in self pity while she needs me to be strong… Like she always has… _He may not have been holding a sword, but he was still her protector, and both of them knew that. He folded his arms about her.

"All right… I promise." He sighed into her hair. "And I'm sorry; I shouldn't have snapped at you, or… thought those things in the first place."

She pressed her forehead against the crook of his neck, burrowing into his embrace. "It's all right… Everyone is under pressure right now. You just… shouldn't go about like it's all because of you. Because it isn't."

"And I know that. Deep down, anyway… It's just… I'm not used to problems that I can't solve. It's second nature to me, saving my country. And now… I'm powerless. It's… a strange feeling."

She stroked his chest. "I know, love… I know."

Prayer was a powerful thing. But though he sent up numerous prayers every day for Hyrule, and for Caine, he didn't feel very strong. Perhaps… Yes, that was how it often worked. It was when mortal men were at their weakest that the Almighty God was able to show Himself strong.

_Lord, be our strength. We thank You for Your provisions, Your blessings, and Your guiding hand. I beseech You, on behalf of my beloved country. Our people are suffering, more so than we have in generations. Please… Rescue us. Deliver us. We need Your help._

"Abyll's rather excited for his birthday, isn't he?" Link figured now was a good time to divert the subject to lighter things. Zelda shifted carefully.

"Rather excited? I'd say that was an understatement if I ever heard one. He's talked of nothing else for the past week!"

Link laughed. If there had been one bright light in these times of darkness, it had been Abyll. The young prince never ceased to amaze everyone with his constant faith and optimism, not to mention his gentle, giving heart. Even most of his wooden toys had gone willingly to the children of the families in Keskus that had lost their homes due to lack of income, or the dragon fires.

"Yes, well… I certainly hope his gift meets his expectations."

Zelda grinned. "I think he'll adore it…"

Only two more days. Then, they would have a reason to celebrate, even in these hard times. Though… Truly, they had reason to celebrate every day. They had a home, their health, food to eat – no matter how meager – and water to sustain them. They had wonderful friends, loyal subjects, and plenty more than enough extra to go around. They had a never-failing God, and they had each other.

Link combed his fingers through his wife's hair. When compared to all that… what had they lost?

_Caine… _The mere thought of the name made his heart ache. Where was he? What had happened to him? Would things have been different if… if he hadn't been so harsh with him?

~-LoZ-~

"We leave in two days' time."

The great black dragon turned, and rested his gaze on the younger one to his left. The prince sat regally with his horned head high and his wings perked with pride. He was proving to be quite the asset. With his extensive knowledge of Hyrule's inner workings, and his assurances that the Hero of Time would be quite crippled without his precious Master Sword, Caine had been precisely what he'd thought he'd be. A formidable foe, and a masterful ally.

The shadowbat quickly departed, fleeing through the exit in the ceiling.

Oh, how he longed to escape this cursed pit. It had been far, far too long. Years since he felt wind whip at his spines and flow over his wings… He was caged like the prisoner of fate he was in this abysmal magma hole, and he felt as if any longer in its rocky confines and it would drive him to insanity. He wanted to see the blue of the sky, feel the heat of the sun, and the soft earth in his claws. As he had once before.

"You've been very helpful, Caine," said he, his tail twitching back and forth. The young dragon bowed.

"Thank you, sir."

"As I have said: my name is Ameas. We are all friends here, fellow castoffs one and all. No need for formalities."

"My apologies… Ameas."

Hylians were so strange. They seemed to have the hardest time with the simplest of things, particularly what they called manners of society. Bah! He was, by all definition, a criminal, a dictator, a captive of his destructive decisions. In this place, this wretched island prison, who cared about manners or society and the like? Here, they didn't exist. Here, they troubled no one.

"How do you feel about this plan?" asked Ameas, shifting his gaze back to the boy.

Caine shrugged his shoulders, shaking his neck afterward. "I don't know… I've never been part of a real battle before. I'm not sure I'll be of much help."

"What, now? You're a dragon! Scales like armor and breath as fiery as Hell itself! Of course you'll be of great help."

"You have other dragons in your ranks."

"Yes, but most of them have been treated as stupid animals for generations long enough to become them. They don't reason well, and doing so hurts their puny little heads. But you and I… we are special. We're capable of conscious thought, meticulous planning and plotting, intricate logics and formulae. We are no mere dragons." He leant his head low, his spines brushing the ground as he brought his gaze level with Caine's. "Do you know what we are?"

After cocking his brow, the prince shook his head. Ameas grinned a toothy, draconic grin.

"We are the future kings of Hyrule. In two days' time, we shall sit in the courts of the great Hylian castle as the royalty we are!"

**A/N:** Not the best chapter I know… It seemed a bit slow to me; hope it wasn't too boring for y'all. I just sorta pass it off as a suspense chapter, a foreboding chapter. Leading up into the next one. =)

Anyway, I'll try to get the next chappie out a bit quicker. This one took a tad longer cause I wasn't sure I liked the way the first draft turned out, plus we had a big work day here yesterday, so… Couldn't get online for a while.

~Penelope


	9. Chapter 8: First Attack

**Chapter Eight:**

**First Attack**

_"Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord." ~ 1 Corinthians 15:58_

"Colin!"

The young man turned his blue eyes to where his mother stood on the steps of their front door. He pushed himself to his feet, the sweet songs of the birds forgotten, and turned to approach her.

"Lilla says one of the goats has its head stuck in the fence again. I don't suppose you could go free it, could you?"

Stupid goats. No matter how many times their horns got them stuck in the fence, they always wanted to stick their heads back through again – usually in the same spot, too. Was it just the temptation of the thicker grass on the other side, or were they just too curious for their own good?

"Of course I can, Mum." He offered her a smile, which she returned before disappearing into the house again.

Ah, off on another fun-filled adventure. This hadn't happened in, what, a whole day? He'd begun to get bored. Besides the occasional loose chicken, or persnickety horse, nothing seemed to happen around Ordon Village. Not since the fire, anyway, and that hadn't even been within the city limits.

Colin shook his head. Not that danger was good in any way, but… There were times he felt antsy, anxious, eager to get out and do something. The whole lot of them used to romp and play all the time; there were so many sweet memories. There was also a lot of bad, but he preferred to remember the good. He could recall water fights, and days spent hiking, games of hide and seek, or tag, in which the person who was 'it' would pretend to be one of the monsters roaming about, just prowling for tasty little children to snack on.

But of course… They weren't children any more. Colin himself had turned twenty and six the month before last. Beth was turning the same age next week, and Talo's birthday came later in the year – all adults. Malo managed a string of shops, now, and he was only twenty-two.

It never ceased to amaze him how quickly time seemed to fly. Malo was quickly becoming a tycoon, Beth worked for Telma and also assisted at the infirmary, and Talo was a part of the Ordon Guard. Colin was a minuteman himself, though he'd declined promotion to full-time officer many times. Ilia had long since moved to Satama, a port a day's travel south from Ordon village, had married a Terminian merchant, and according to her letters, was expecting her second child.

And Link… My, Link was king of Hyrule! How things had changed since all of them were young, and carefree… But of course, that was to be expected. Not only did age change a person dramatically, but after the Twilight war, it was impossible to be the same.

The incessant bleating of a goat jolted him from his reverie and he suddenly remembered why he'd been en route to the paddock in the first place. Said goat sat contentedly with its head through the fence posts, horns caught on the wooden plank above it.

"Stupid animal," he muttered, folding his arms over his chest. "This is the same spot I found you in yesterday!"

It simply stared at him blankly and 'baa'ed.

"Don't use that tone with me; you know you did too!" Colin knew that anyone who saw or heard him talking to the animals would think him mad. But it was a pastime, something to do, and he really didn't have many people to talk to besides his little sister. Except…

"Talking to goats now, are we? My, how the people will talk."

Colin craned his head around and felt color rise to his cheeks; it just had to be _her_, now didn't it? Of all people… "Hullo, Beth…"

"Hullo, Colin. Did you get sunburn from all that herding yesterday?"

He grimaced as the blush deepened; blunt as a spoon, and worse, that was Beth, all right. "Um… No."

"That sounded more like a question than an answer."

"Sorry…"

"For what?"

Glancing at her, he wondered why on earth things had to change. He used to be able to talk to her without getting tongue tied. He felt like slamming his forehead into the fencing a few times; perhaps it would knock the words loose. "I… I-I don't know; look, do you enjoy getting me riled, is that it?"

She giggled, and his heart skipped. He loved that sound… "No, I just think you're cute when you're flustered."

Yep. Blunt Beth. Ugh, how was it possible that he craved her company so, yet couldn't stand it…

"Was there something you wanted?" Immediately, Colin regretted the sarcastic tone in his voice, but Beth didn't seem to notice, or mind.

"Can't I take the time out of the day to spend time with my favorite person?"

_Ah, here comes that cursed blush again… _Why was it so easy for her to do this to him? He wanted to crawl under a bush and pretend he was invisible.

"Um…"

"Don't say anything; you'll ruin the moment."

He snapped his mouth shut, and a cock-eyed grin tugged at the corner. To distract himself, he stooped down to the goat and got a firm grip on its horns, twisted its head to the side – much to the protests of the thing – and shoved it backward, away from the fence. It came loose with a jolt, and the sudden move came before Colin had the time to let go. His knuckles scraped the fence post, caught between it and the goat's departing horns. He sucked in a breath, and recoiled. "Gah!"

Beth knelt beside him. Without a word, she took his hand and dug into her pocket to pull out a kerchief. She dabbed at the bleeding scrapes quietly, and then wrapped the soft cloth around his hand. When she had secured it, she lifted her blue – sapphire blue – eyes to his face.

"There. Better?"

He nodded slightly, lifting the bandaged hand and tightening it into a fist, using the palm of the other to put pressure on the stinging wound beneath the cloth. The gentle touch of her fingers on his calloused hand lingered. "…Thank you."

"Don't mention it; it's what I do." She put a hand on his broad shoulder and smiled; Colin wasn't sure if the lack of playfulness in the gesture was all in his head or not.

Beth looked out into the paddock once more. "Which one was that, now?"

"Tyhmä. Roughly translated... Stupid one."

She laughed. Did he ever mention he loved her laugh?

"Well, it's certainly befitting of her." She sat back against the prickly grass, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched the goats graze on the dry, brittle weeds. Colin would have been watching as well, or even commenting no how much he missed the lush green grass, or the fresh wind in the trees, but he was rather occupied in studying the woman beside him at the moment.

After a moment, she laid back, folding her arms behind her head as she stared up at the clouds. He followed suit, gazing at the endless blue, and the white cotton balls that floated lazily along amidst it.

"I wish one of those clouds would just grow to be a thundercloud," said Beth with a sigh. She closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight. "I miss the rain."

Colin had to agree; he remembered vividly the relief that had washed over him like the raindrops from heaven the day of the fire earlier that year. He'd never felt so refreshed, so unbound as in that moment. "Amen to that."

For the umpth time in the past month, a single question welled in his throat, and nagged at his mind. A question he'd been wanting to ask her since then, one of utmost importance and priority. A questioned that longed for release – the release that he could not bring himself to give it. No matter how brave he was as a soldier, as a horseman or herder, or even as an average person. He couldn't seem to dredge up enough courage to force his tongue to form the words.

"Beth…" Oh, why did he just do that? Now he had her attention; he'd have to continue, or she'd nag him to no end until he did.

"Yes, Colin?"

What to say, what to say… "Um… I was… wondering…"

A shadow blocked the sun's warm rays. Colin blinked, wondering if he'd just imagined it.

"Did… What was that?" Beth sat up, studying the skies above them. So he hadn't imagined it.

"I don't know…" He saw a flash of color disappear around a corner down the street to their right. Something else darted behind a rooftop. "What in the world…"

A goat wailed and the little herd moved as one to cower in their little lean-to. A frown drew Colin's brow, and he rocked to his feet, eyes trained on the frightened animals. Beth stood beside him, and together, they listened. The birds had suddenly gone quite silent; even the horses could be heard blowing and stomping anxiously in the stables down the path.

Then a scream echoed over the city, causing both of the young people to jump. Colin took off at a run in an instant, and he rounded the corner of his house just as a great blast of fire barreled down the main street. His feet slid on the loose dirt, and he overcorrected his balance as he kept from running straight into the flames. He skidded to a stop on his behind.

"Colin!"

He looked back to find Beth, but a great green mass blocked his view. He followed the height until he was staring straight into piercing yellow eyes.

"Dragons!" Beth's scream was enough to sound the alarm, if the flame hadn't done it already. The marketplace, the corner of which Colin could see out of the corner of his eye, quickly emptied as the women and children scrambled for cover. Dragons emerged from rooftops and trees and even from behind crates, or wagons. They had somehow infiltrated the village without being seen by anyone. And as civilians disappeared, soldiers of the Ordon Guard quickly took their place. Colin caught sight of Talo as the other young man was among the first to swipe his gleaming blade at a dragon's head.

Colin felt the hot breath on his face and, without much thought, dove between the legs of the dragon that stood over him. It snarled and attempted to follow him with its head, jaws open and ready for a nice bite of Colin-flesh, and ended up in a crumpled pile of scales and limbs. Writhing like a fish out of water, it soon righted itself only to duck down again. Colin smirked as he brought his sword back near him, keeping his arm ready and steady – like Link had taught him over the years.

The dragon struck at him like a snake, its gleaming teeth clicked against thin air. Colin swung his blade at its face, and he was satisfied with a hollow click as the blade connected with the scales of its cheek. But of course, it would take more than a simple swipe to get through the vile creature's scales.

When it struck again, he tucked himself in and rolled under it, lifting his sword and plunging it under the scales of the dragon's underbelly. It shrieked in pain, and Colin barely had the time to roll out from under it before it collapsed onto the ground. He jerked the blade from its hide and glanced over at where he'd last seen Beth. She was nowhere in sight.

He didn't know whether that should worry him, or relieve him. It was possible she had gotten somewhere safe, but it was also very possible that she'd been carried off by one of the winged predators… He preferred the former.

"Colin!" It was a masculine voice that called him this time, and a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. Talo's hard expression greeted him, and Colin raised his brows.

"You must light the beacon! There are too many for the Guard to handle on our own." Talo glanced nervously at the ensuing battle on the market street.

"But it could take half a day for anyone from Keskus to arrive."

"Any time is better than not at all."

"But by that time-"

"I know; please, Colin. If help from Keskus doesn't arrive, then surely the Kokiri will see the flare and send help. Go, please!" Without another word, Talo whirled and disappeared into the fray once more, leaving Colin alone and with orders to practically leave the battle to them.

But orders were orders. And to go against them would mean treachery. Which Colin was not willing to do.

He darted through the streets to the outpost at the north border. There loomed the rectangular stack of branches specially set for emergencies; most larger cities had such towers, and a system was set that when one was lit, more would light in a chain to the capitol city to alert the monarch that a certain city was in trouble.

Clambering up the ladder, he snatched up the pale of oil and dumped it over the top. Then he took the flint and, giving the two stones a sharp 'clack' together, sent sparks showering over the oil-drenched wood. It ignited easily, and quickly began to grow, feeding fast on the dry branches. As Colin climbed back down, the flame reached full strength, blazing out and sending smoke billowing into the sky.

~-LoZ-~

Abyll rode round and round the circular pen, the horse's black mane waving in his smiling face as the wind whipped at the new-bound pair. Link leaned on the roundpen post, watching contentedly as his young son and Epona's best foal, Koda, cantered about.

"So how do you like him?" asked Zelda loud enough for the boy to hear. Though, she really didn't need to ask. The beaming grin on Abyll's face was answer enough.

"I love him! He's so smooth." Indeed, the colt was. He had long, steady strides, and wide hooves for stability. His black feathers* puffed elegantly with each high step, and the horse moved with stamina and grace.

"He certainly is." While Abyll's back was to them as he and Koda made another round about the pen, Zelda turned Link's face to her and kissed him eagerly. He was initially caught off guard, but quickly responded, chuckling against her lips.

She pulled away before Abyll made the turn, a lovely smile gracing her expression. Her eyes danced. "You've made him so happy. And that makes _me _happy."

"It was your idea," he retorted, though it was really for the need to say something rather than the statement being true, as it was. She simply laughed and hugged his side. He laid an arm over her slender shoulders.

"I think it's about time to head in for lunch, wouldn't you say?" said Link, glancing at Zelda before turning to check Abyll's reaction.

The boy groaned. "Aw, please, Dat, five more minutes?"

"You haven't been on a horse for a while; too long, and you'll get saddle sore," Zelda pointed out. She was right, as usual.

Abyll puckered his lower lip and turned big, sad eyes on his mother. Koda had slowed to a trot, and the boy's blond hair bounced with the movements of the horse.

Link laughed. "All right, all right. Five more minutes."

Abyll perked up instantly, grinning. "Yes!"

The king and queen laughed all the more as he made a show of exaggerating his riding, bouncing high in the saddle, being such a small boy on such a large horse.

Five minutes later, Abyll begged for more time to no avail. It was time to eat; a stable boy took Koda away to the stables, and the royal threesome headed toward the palace.

As they passed through one of the main halls in the direction of the dining room, a young soldier came barreling up to them, looking quite winded.

"Sire! Sire…" The young man gasped for breath. "The beacon of Ordon has been lit."

Link felt his stomach sink instantly. _Again? _He cast a worried glance at Zelda, and gestured for her to continue on with Abyll. As soon as they were out of earshot, Link turned back to the messenger.

"How long ago?"

"But a few minutes. I came straightaway from the Keskus Beacon tower itself."

He nodded. "Right. Go sound the alarm; tell the minutemen to assemble in the courtyard, and we'll depart for Ordon post haste."

The young soldier nodded and hurried out of the hall, in the direction of the barracks to the north of the castle. Link went straight to the stables, having begun to keep his chainmail and other such equipment nearby Epona's stable, so frequent were the dragon attacks. But this was the first time a beacon had been lit; Ordon must truly be in peril.

The draft horse nickered anxiously as he approached, and he absently stroked her velvety muzzle.

"Hullo, girl. Off on another adventure so soon, I know. But Ordon's in trouble again."

She snorted at the mention of Ordon, and her ears perked up. Link pulled his chainmail and green tunic over his head, fastened his belt about his waist, and situated his cap on his head. While most wondered why he wore such light protection in battle, he could never stand to wear the heavy metal of battle mail and armor, and he found that helmets were a hindrance more than a help. He preferred the lighter way of movement. Without all the extra weight, he was able to move with much more agility, which was a great advantage.

He situated the saddle on his horse's back and tightened the cinch about her girth. Once she was all tacked up, he opened the stall door, and turned back to swing up onto her back.

"To the courtyard, Epona. Hup-hup!" The pair barreled out of the stables at a lope, maneuvering their way toward the castle courtyard.

Upon arriving, he found four score of soldiers, armed in light mail and armor, and swords and bucklers. These were the minutemen of Keskus. It wasn't much, but numbers did not determine the outcome of a battle.

_Though, they sure do help_… Link shook the thought away, and addressed his soldiers. "We ride for the south, men. As fast as our steeds can carry us. To Ordon!" Without another word, he reined Epona around and the party charged out of the western gates, straight into Hyrule Field, and toward Ordon.

~-LoZ-~

Colin drove his sword into the belly of another dragon. His arm was beginning to tire. The creature fell from the air, bouncing against the corner of the guard tower and crashing to a halt at the bottom.

It was about supper time, now. The first wave of dragons had receded long ago, to regroup just outside the village. Every hour, on the dot, a new, rejuvenated force would attack while the previous would retreat, the new reptiles bearing down on the Ordon Guard and slowly weeding them out. Talo had been critically wounded in the third wave. The remaining soldiers were few and tiring quickly. A few that now lay in the infirmary somewhere below had succumbed to exhaustion. They had gotten no rest in their fighting, and the dragon army was outlasting them. They had replenishable forces; Ordon did not.

Colin sank against the floor, limbs heavy, as a fellow minuteman took his place, shooting at nearby dragons and swiping down those that flew close enough. Prying the blade from his stiffened fingers, Colin let it clatter onto the wood floor.

He was so tired; he could barely keep his eyes open. All he wanted was to slip into the comforts of the waiting unconsciousness. Sweat streaked down the side of his face, and he didn't waste the strength to wipe it away.

Suddenly a bell rang. Loud, and persistent. Colin let his head lull to the side, toward the sound, but did not move to stand.

"It's the king! The king rides for Ordon!"

That woke him up. He jolted upright, and clambered to his feet, leaning out the window to look into the distance. Though they were further into the city limits than the watchtower, he could see the telltale dust trailing up near the horizon.

"The king rides for Ordon!" he called, repeating the message, both for necessity and out of pure relief. "Stand firm, men! Help comes from the north!"

The soldier that fought ducked back into the tower house, winded as he leaned on the wall and wiped his brow. Colin took his place once more, and was immediately greeted by a dragon with an arrow embedded in its neck. He only threw a few sword strokes at it before its wound caused it to plummet to the ground.

A horn blew in the distance. Colin's heart leapt in his chest at the sound, and he aimed and pulled back the bow with renewed vigor. As a dragon flew past, he let loose the arrow and it plunged into its ribcage, just under its arm. It faltered with a garbled cry of pain, and fluttered to the ground and lay still.

The horn sounded again, closer this time. Colin glanced to the horizon; he could see a single dot nearing the city. That had to be Link and Epona! Epona was the fastest horse in Hyrule, and only Link would keep his horse at such a pace to reach Ordon in time to help them.

A clawed hand grabbed a fistful of Colin's tunic, and pulled him from his perch on the tower wall. His legs dangled over open air. He clung fiercely to the wrist that held him, looking up into the scaly face of his captor. Its wings beating at the air, making his hair blow in all directions, the dragon sneered at him, and snorted smoke into his face. He gagged. His hand twitched for his sword hilt.

"Right, maggot!" he spat into the creature's face. "Let's finish it, then."

It snarled, and inhaled a deep breath. Colin could see the gases gathering in the back of its throat. With a quick thrust, he stabbed his blade into its chest, and its eyes bulged. Then his heart rose to his throat as they began to fall.

The air roared about them, and Colin closed his eyes as the ground drew closer. He felt the impact of the ground jar his spine and pain exploded into his head… And then he knew nothing more.

~**A/N: ***For those who don't know horses, feathers is what the heavy fur around draft horses' hooves is called.


	10. Chapter 9: Aftermath

**Chapter Nine:**

**Aftermath**

"_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.." ~ Psalm 23:4_

"_That was a crazy stunt… Never should have attempted it."_

"_It could have gotten him killed!"_

"_I think he knows that. He always does."_

"_Well, he obviously doesn't care."_

"_Talo! You shouldn't speak that way about him."_

"_Excuse me; I just don't want his woman on my hide about it."_

He stirred, and a soft groan escaped his lips. Images – recent memories – flashed in his mind; the battle, the dragon, the sensation of falling. Then the impact… Blue eyes slowly pried themselves open. They blinked a few times, pupils working to come into focus in the dim light, and scanned over the faces around him.

Talo, Beth, and Uli stared down at him concernedly. A frown flickered over his features, and he moved to sit up. Uli stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Link, you shouldn't be moving right now; hold still."

"The village…" The words proceeded from his mouth in a quiet groan. His head pounded against his skull, and pain pulsed down his neck until he lay back down again. "What… happened?"

He didn't miss the look of discouragement that Uli shared with the other two before looking at him sadly. "The village… was taken."

His throat tightened, and he shut his eyes tightly against the despair that threatened to take him. _Taken… Taken. I was too late… _

"But you bought us time, Link. A lot more people got out because of you." Beth's voice held a hint of confidence, but her eyes were as sad as Uli's. Her words did nothing to cheer him.

That village was home to scores of people, families of many, with children, and animals. People dear to Link's heart. And he had failed them. During the skirmish, he had been confident – so confident that he would be able to discourage those winged demons and stop their barrage. But apparently…

"Where are we?" The words croaked from his throat, which suddenly felt quite sore.

"The catacombs."

Of course. The network of escape tunnels leading from Ordon to the Kokiri forests. He'd almost forgotten it.

It was all coming back much clearer now. The collapse of the town center, the burning of the infirmary… Seeing red, he had jumped on the back of a passing dragon and had been whisked into the air. He shot down other dragon troops for a few minutes before his steed realized it had a tagalong. He'd cut his palms clinging to its sharp spine as it bucked and rolled, trying to get him off. When he hadn't let go, the dragon had suddenly dropped into a suicide dive. Straight into the inferno that was the infirmary's scorched, collapsing roof.

So that was why his arms and neck stung so. As he scanned his body mentally, he felt the soothing cloth and gauze on his forearms and throat. His plunge into the burning building would also explain why his throat hurt and his mouth was so parched. He tried to suck in a deep breath, and only succeeded in choking out a ragged cough.

"Easy… You inhaled much smoke," said Uli, reaching for a mug that sat on the small bed stand. She tilted his head up and brought the rim to his lips, and for once, he didn't object to being mothered. The water soothed his burning throat.

After a few cool gulps, she pulled the cup away and let him rest his head again.

"Thank you," he rasped quietly, closing his eyes briefly to let the relief sink fully in. Another thought struck him, and he opened them again, looking up at the threesome imploringly. "Who-"

He didn't have to finish. Uli's husband stepped into the room through the crude door – which was just a curtain – his face darkened with ash, and soot, and a bandage wrapped around his head. Link had no need to inquire further.

"Well," said Rusl quietly, "good, you're awake. We were starting to worry there for a while."

Link allowed himself a slight smile. "No, you can't get rid of me that easy…" He paused to cough, the action resurrecting the burning strain in his neck. He grimaced, and swallowed to try and relieve it.

Rusl smiled paternally. "Now, now, you just rest easy. The last thing you need right now is to overexert yourself. You must be tired; go ahead and rest."

But there was yet a question left unanswered. And Link had to know. "How many?"

The older man's expression dimmed, and he let out a heavy-hearted sigh. "Only a handful compared to those lost. Those who got out are blessed just to be alive."

So that was it. Link had survived, while dozens of innocents had died. He'd been rescued, while many had been slaughtered, or burned. Guilt crashed down on him like an overwhelming wave. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow.

"Come," he heard Uli say quietly. Footsteps shuffled on the stone floor. "Let him rest."

A commotion sounded in the hall outside the room. Link's eyes flew open, and he looked up in time to see a haggard-looking young man burst through the curtain, with two others following close behind, trying to get a firm hold on his arms.

"Link!" Colin burst free of the pair, staggering a bit, before reaching the side of the cot. He leant against the nightstand, putting a hand over the bandage that covered his forehead. "Are…" His breaths came in gasps, and he looked about ready to keel over. "Are you… all right?"

Link furrowed his brow, but was unable to turn his head much as his neck protested heartily. "I could ask you the same."

"I'm…" Colin took a deep breath, and Link easily saw the stifled grimace. "Fine."

"No, you're not."

"Colin, you have a terrible concussion!" Beth was at the younger man's side instantly, gently gripping his arm to steady him. "You shouldn't be up and around like this."

Colin did look quite pale, even greenish, and blood was beginning to seep through the bandage on his head. Link thought of sitting up and telling the boy to go lie down, back where he belonged, but in his state, it would be hardly convincing. In his position, there was only one way he would be able to get Colin to obey him; to play the royal card.

"Colin, go back; rest. That's an order." As king and commander-in-chief of the Hylian army, Link had every right to give that order.

"I had to see… If you were all right. I must… Send word to Keskus. You know Queen Zelda will be worried sick." Colin swooned, and would have collapsed had Beth not been at his side.

"Colin!" she said insistently, keeping him upright.

Link heaved a sigh; he did have a point, but that didn't necessitate Colin's endangering his own recovery for it. He could have sent someone else. Of course, perhaps the news would be better coming from Colin's hand… But he was in no condition to write anything.

"You must rest," he repeated. "Beth can send the message, just fine. Right?"

Beth nodded, and for a moment, Colin seemed ready to object once more. But as more color drained from his face, his shoulders sagged in surrender – that, or from overwhelming fatigue, but Link suspected it was a combination of both. Beth struggled to keep him standing.

"All right…" the young man muttered, his head lolling to the side weakly as he did. One of his knees buckled and he leaned involuntarily on Beth; she bent under his weight until Rusl came and helped her escort Colin back out into the hall.

Uli sighed, and offered him a motherly smile, approaching the bedside and brushing the hair back from his face. "Rest now, Link. We are safe here. And when you are well enough, we'll take you back to Keskus – to Zelda."

He nodded slowly, conceding to the sleep that fell over his eyes like a blanket. Before he lost grip on his consciousness, he uttered one last request. "Make sure Epona's all right… Please, Uli…"

"Of course, Hero…"

Her voice drifted away, and he fell into sweet sleep.

~-LoZ-~

_Link… My dear Link… Please come home safely._

Zelda stared off her balcony as she watched the messenger disappear out of the southern gates of Keskus. Her eyes saw the city, how deathly quiet it was, and how grey and lifeless the day seemed, but her mind followed that messenger, across Hyrule Field, beyond the Faron Woods, to Ordon. Or rather, under Ordon.

Yes, news of Ordon's conquer had devastated her. And until reaching the message from Beth, her mind had whirred with terrible situations, one hundred and one things that could've happened to her king. And while it pained her to know that he'd suffered such injuries, her heart had leapt when she heard he was alive, and recovering.

"_But he seems sad. Particularly after we told him of those we lost. I think he feels guilty…" _Beth's letter had said.

Self-inflicted guilt seemed second-nature to Link almost as much as battling evil was. Zelda sighed; it seemed this was a habit she couldn't help him break. No matter what she said, how she insisted none of it was his fault… He had the default of blame rested heavily on his mortal shoulders, and this saddened her. He couldn't help any of what had happened, and yet he always felt as if he himself had caused it – particularly if he was powerless to stop it. He was the Hero of Time after all; was there anything he couldn't do?

Oh, yes, there was. Plenty of it. But Link couldn't – or, perhaps, wouldn't – see it. He preferred to bear the blame, rather than point fingers, even if such an accusation was true. And it tore Zelda apart to see him bear such mental and emotional strain. It couldn't be good for his health, not in the least. He believed he was doing others a service, but it was crushing him under the weight of unmerited blame.

"Mumma…"

Zelda felt a tug on her skirts and looked down into the doll-like face of her daughter. The little girl's big blue eyes – so like her father's – brought a smile instantly to her face. She stooped down, and picked Erulissë up.

"Yes, darling?"

"Daddy coming home?"

She nodded, tapping the princess's button nose. "Yes, sweetheart, in a little while. He got hurt, but he's getting better."

"We pray," Erulissë stated, curling a lock of her golden hair about her chubby finger. A laugh escaped Zelda's lips.

"Yes, we will; for sure. We'll pray he comes home safe and sound."

"Yeah…" She slipped her short arms about her mother's neck, and Zelda reached up to stroke her curls, smiling with the love brimming over in her heart. Oh, how she loved her children…

Thoughts of her eldest assaulted her mind with a vengeance, as they had countless times. Still, no one knew what had happened to Caine, and by now, Zelda herself was beginning to believe that… that he was never coming back. The thought pained her beyond belief, and a gaping hole was slowly growing in her soul where her firstborn should rightfully sit.

"Don't be sad, Mumma…" said Erulissë's little voice, and Zelda realized her eyes were burning. She blinked the threatening tears away, and attempted to smile at her little girl.

"I-It's all right…" Her throat constricted. "I just… miss your big brother."

"I miss Caine too…" At the look of sadness on her angel's face, Zelda wasn't sure whether to smile, or cry. Her facial expression obviously thought she should do both. A single tear escaped her eye, and Erulissë reached up to brush it away.

"Don't cry… It's… get better," said the toddler hesitantly as she fumbled for the right words. "Daddy and Caine come back… Promise."

Zelda couldn't resist a smile this time, and she hugged her daughter close. _Oh, Lord, where would I be without my children? _"That's right, Ellie… They'll come back."

~-LoZ-~

The news of the fall of Hyvä Vene brought guilt ringing back to Link's ears. According to reports, the harbor had been overrun and easily taken by another dragon regime while the battle was fought at Ordon. The beacon tower had been guarded by the creatures, keeping anyone from lighting it. Hundreds had been slaughtered.

How could he have fallen for such an obvious ruse? The attack on Ordon was a diversion, and he'd taken the bait without a second thought. While he wouldn't have left Ordon alone for a moment, surely he could have seen that the lighting of the beacon had come much too easy… But, again… How could he have known that Hyvä Vene was their target?

"You couldn't have stopped it – no, not even you, oh, great Hero." Uli gave him a stern look from where she clothed salve over his slowly-healing burns. "Even you can't be two places at once, and you're not omniscient in the least. You couldn't have known they were under attack."

"But still! They knew I'd come here. How? And why? Why use Ordon to cloak an assault on Hyvä Vene?" Link was thoroughly stumped by now, and it was beginning to aggravate him.

"Because they could?"

He bit his tongue. Words leapt to his throat, driven by aggravation, but he was determined not to take his irritation out on Uli. She had done nothing but care for him, and it wasn't fair to direct his anger at her. And she was right, anyway.

"How are you feeling?" She very tactfully changed the subject as she finished wrapping the new bandage around his forearm.

He sighed, slowly bending his arm, working the tendons and muscles to get a feel of its state. It protested enough to make him wince. "Well… I could be better."

"Then we'll stay here a bit longer. Until you are good and ready for the ride back to Keskus." She stood to leave.

"But, Uli, I-"

"Good and ready, Link, good and ready!"

~-LoZ-~

As it turned out, Uli had meant when _she _thought him good and ready, and that happened to be at least a week and a half later. By that time, Link was aching to get home. He missed his children, missed their laughter, missed the feeling of his wife's tender arms around him. He missed home.

He was careful as he swung up into Epona's saddle. The skin on his arms was still tender to certain movements, and the occasional place where the burns had gone deep was still mending, but he couldn't stand to be so far from his family any longer. He settled against the leather and gripped the reins in his bandaged hands. He glanced back at Colin, Uli, and the youngest of the same family, Lilla, who had all agreed that they would be accompanying Link back to Keskus.

"You'll need someone to keep you from overexerting yourself," Uli had claimed.

But Link had no intentions of keeping the pace slow. He'd rein Epona in just slow enough not to overwork their horses, but he was going to get to the capitol as quickly as possible.

"Are we ready?" he inquired, looking at the face of each of his companions. All three of them nodded.

"Lead the way, Link," said Colin.

Link nodded in return and spurred Epona down the long, empty tunnel. They passed numerous curtained doors along the way, and the only sound that broke the intense silence was the hollow clip of the horses' hooves. Occasionally, someone would peer out of a doorway to watch the king and his company go by.

It seemed like an eternity until they reached the final exit to the catacombs. This was the door farthest north from Ordon, and the dragons wouldn't be able to spot them where they came up near Ordon Spring.

As Colin swung the door open quietly, Link found he had never been so relieved to feel the breeze in his face. It combed through his hair, and cooled his wounds with soothing salve, and he closed his eyes to simply enjoy it. Then the breeze died away, and his eyes slid open again. Outside the door lay a world of autumn brown. A world of dull colors, withered leaves, and drooping grass. A dying world, a world soon to feel the sting of the cold fingers of winter.

He urged Epona through the door, ducking under the rim and into the chilly day outside. The air was crisper, and fresher than in the tunnels, and he inhaled deeply. The cool atmosphere filled and left his lungs in a whoosh. It was good to be outside again; always, the freedom of the outside world beckoned him. Zelda claimed that the love of all things green and growing was instilled in his blood, and an understanding of animals and good folk of the land engraved on his mind. Many agreed, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought.

To Link's disappointment, Epona was in no hurry. The horse had a will of her own, and she was set on walking this time. Apparently, she felt in no rush to return to Keskus.

At this pace, the return trip lasted a full two days. And when they could see the walls of the capitol city gleaming orange in the sunset light, it was all Link could do not to leap off Epona and run there himself! He tried again to spur his horse forward, and thankfully, she responded by bursting ahead at a gallop. Leaving the other three to plod along slowly, the pair flew across the remainder of Hyrule Field and straight up to the southern gates.

"Open the gates!" he called up, offering no lengthy explanation. He simply wanted to get home.

By the way the sentry yelled, Link was sure that those on post at the northern gates surely heard him. "It's the king! The king has returned!"

The gates swung open as fast as was possible, and Link cast the sentry a grateful grin before urging Epona through. The pair raced through the city streets, ignoring the shouts and hails of the citizens they passed by, signs and curtains and awnings billowing in their wake. Up and up the gradual incline they went, the thundering of Epona's hooves next to nothing compared with the increasingly loud beating of his heart. It felt as if it would leap from his chest at any given moment.

_I'm coming, Zelda… _

He reached the castle wall, and didn't even have to hail the sentry. The iron gates stood open wide, and a throng of soldiers – the Royal Guard – waited on the other side. They cheered with loud, booming voices as Link rode through the courtyard.

He paused long enough to smile at all of them, not having expected a welcome such as this, but didn't deter long. He reached the steps and, not bothering to fetch for a stable boy, leapt off Epona and climbed the looming steps to enter into the Great Hall.

As soon as he pushed the door open, his feet halted of their own accord. There she was, running toward him. In a simple, burgundy evening gown that hung loose about her, accenting nothing whatsoever of her womanly figure, but it may as well have been the most beautiful gown she'd ever worn. He removed his cap out of habit, really, and dropped it to the floor as she threw her arms about his neck. For once in the longest time, he barely noticed the stinging pain of the still-healing burns.

He quickly returned the crushing embrace as she choked out his name again and again. Had it not been for the brilliant smile that he'd glimpsed on her face, he would have thought she was crying. In a way, she was – her red-rimmed eyes now sprouted tear after tear; but they were tears of joy, not sorrow.

"Thank God you're all right…" she managed to mutter before assaulting him with a solid kiss on the mouth. Most thoughts instantly fled his mind as it was slowly numbed by the gentle caress of her lips on his.

The loud clearing of someone's throat broke the moment quickly, and Zelda lowered herself from her tiptoes. Link followed as far as he could before regrettably breaking the kiss, and turning to the person who had had such the worst timing…

Impa stared at them with a smirk on her ageless face, her arms folded over her chest. Her red eyes twinkled with mirth. "Welcome back, Your Majesty. Though, don't expect a kiss from me."

Link laughed; how he had missed the old Sheikah. "Heaven forbid."

"Dat! DAT!" The yell echoed through the grand hall and Link was soon nearly tackled to the ground in a blur of blond hair and a beaming grin.

Abyll hugged his father tightly, bouncing up and down excitedly. "You're back, you're back, you're back!"

Link laughed whole heartedly, and clutched his young son so tight that the boy's feet lifted from the ground. "I've missed you, too, warrior."

If it was even possible, Abyll's grin widened at the pet name, and he never once loosened his grip about Link's torso. "Oh, you're back, you're back, you're back, you're back, you're-"

"Injured," finished Impa, now close enough to see the healing skin on the backs of his hands, and his neck. "What happened?"

Link cast a glance to Abyll, and sent her a meaningful look. "I'll explain later." Then, as another thought took full attention, he swiveled his gaze to his wife.

He searched her gaze imploringly before uttering a single request: "Caine?"

Her expression dimmed and she hung her head, giving it a slow shake. Link's heart sunk a little, but not by much – he hadn't truly expected any news. He wasn't surprised.

Abyll demanded their attention again as he ran about them in circles, whooping and hollering and rustling up such a commotion, servants peered into the hall to see what was the matter. The young prince didn't seem to mind in the least, as he was too busy celebrating the safe return of his father.

"Daddy, Daddy!" came the sweetest little voice, and Link felt as if it had been ages since he heard it last. Erulissë carefully descended the stairs and, once she was on flat ground, ran in her adorable tottering way as fast as her little feet would carry her, straightaway into her father's waiting arms. Link hoisted her into the air with a joyous laugh; his face was beginning to ache from his endless grin, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have been able to stop smiling anyhow.

"Oh, my little princess!" He twirled her around, and she squealed with delight. "Ellie, how I missed you!"

"I miss you, too, Daddy." She wrapped her arms about his neck, burying her cherubic face into his shoulder. Quite suddenly, he felt very gritty and war-tarnished to be holding such an innocent, precious treasure.

But this felt oh so right. Gone were the thoughts of not belonging, of doubt and second-guesses. He was here, alive and on the mend, surrounded by his family, supported by his friends, and sheltered by his home. He was humbled, and overwhelmingly thankful. He lost count of the prayers of thanks he whispered that evening.

~-LoZ-~

"By that welcome, you'd think I'd been gone for months."

Zelda chuckled as she finished redressing the bandage on his other arm, and crawled into the bed beside him. "It felt like it… to me, anyhow. Can't say I can speak for the others."

Link smiled at her, and raised his arm to wrap about her slender shoulders, pulling her close against him. Even in such a relatively short time to be apart from her, he had still missed this – her incredible warmth as she snuggled close to him, their arms about each other in an unbreakable embrace so similar to the bond of their spirits. It was written in the Holy Text that at marriage, a man and woman were bound together as one mind, one heart, one flesh, never to be parted until the death. Such was how he felt he and his wife were – they were one. And nothing could change that.

He kissed her forehead, but had to frown as he pulled away. A rather troubled look had replaced the smile on her pixie-like face, and her sparkling eyes had darkened.

It didn't take a genius to imagine what she was thinking. "I can't stop thinking of Caine either, Zelda…"

She glanced at him with mild surprise, but it faded quickly back to the uneasy frown. "I just… I wish we knew what really happened… I hate leaving it up to my imagination. Perhaps… Perhaps I've seen too many horrid things, but… I keep imagining things…" She swallowed hard and buried her face against his chest. He reached up to gently stroke her hair.

"It will all be all right in the end… No matter what happens. And while I don't profess to know the future… I do know that all things work for the good of those who love God-"

"And are called according to His purpose, I know…" She sighed heavily. "You're right. You're right. I just… need to stop worrying about it."

He allowed himself a contented smile, and planted a kiss on her auburn hair. He felt her relax against him, and it wasn't long before her breath became slow and even. She was asleep.

While dozens of thoughts whirled about his head, he couldn't give them any time as his eyes quickly began to droop as well. The room, the silver moonlight, even Zelda's comforting presence all soon faded away as he sunk into the first pleasant sleep he'd had in days.

**A/N: **I know, more of a fluff chapter than anything… But I figure I'd better give them a bit of a respite before the next chapters. Things won't go as well as they did this time… Dun, dun, DUH! :)


	11. Chapter 10: Explosive Strategy

**Chapter Ten:**

**Explosive Strategy**

"_And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."~ Romans 8:28_

Flames engulfed the large barrel and, with a great flash of light, it exploded and reduced the shop beneath it to splinters. Ilia clung to her husband's hand as they maneuvered through the panicked streets. She could feel the horse's nervousness beneath her and knew, no doubt, that it was picking up her own. Dozens of frantic people ran this way and that, and she jumped as a stranger was snatched up by the claws of a dragon.

"Dat, I'm scared!" cried Ani, gripping her skirts with white knuckles as she struggled to keep up.

"Come Ani, we must hurry!" Matthus paused long enough to sweep the little girl up from the ground and settle her in the saddle behind her mother. He glanced back, and the expression on his rugged face frightened Ilia.

"Ilia…" His voice was much quieter, and she strained to hear him over the chaos that was Satama at that very moment. "They need help…"

She looked back and caught sight of a soldier as he was crushed beneath the weight of a blue dragon. She shuddered, and looked back to him. "No. Matthus…"

"I must do my part, my love… I could not live knowing I abandoned my city so."

Anger swelled in her, and unwanted tears blurred her vision. "And what of abandoning your family?" Out of mere instinct, her free hand flew to her womb, and she hoped he saw it.

Sorrow clouded his expression, and he clasped her hand in both of his. "I promise you, Ilia. I will return to you." He attempted a smile. "When we married, you told me you wanted seven children, and I promised to give you all of them. I don't break my promises. All right?"

Her throat tightened, and a feeling of dread nearly drowned her. "Matthus…"

He kissed her knuckles, and gazed up at her with sad eyes. "Stay safe, dear Ilia. Now go! Quickly; escape to the Kokiri." Without giving her the chance to linger, he slapped the rump of the horse and it bolted ahead.

Ilia looked back, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watched him draw his sword and disappear into the dust and rubble. Would she ever see him again? _Dear Lord, keep him safe…_

"Mummy, where's Dat going?" Ani clung to her mother, and trembled.

"To help fight. But let us speak no more of it…" She leaned into the saddle, and urged their horse on, to the north. They would have to give Ordon a wide berth; the conquering of her home city had not failed to reach her ears. But they were en route to the Kokiri forests.

~-LoZ-~

Link watched grimly as the smoke billowed from the south. He gritted his teeth as another plume of dark ash rose up, and he closed his eyes to hang his head. His heart ached to be with his army as they fought on the front lines, but alas. Uli and Impa had both joined forces against him, and threatened to slip sleeping powder to him, in a dosage large enough to keep him home for days. All if he refused to stay put until his burns completely healed.

His fists clenched on the balcony rail, and for a brief moment, he contemplated leaping from its edge, to the courtyard below, and running for the stables. But, no doubt, Impa had guards on her side, and while he had greater authority that she, the guards would not be easily dissuaded from obeying the Sheikah's orders.

"Sire?" The shaking voice broke his train of thought, and he turned slowly to see a maid standing tentatively in the doorway.

"Yes?"

"The council requests your presence in the Meeting Hall."

He suppressed a groan of annoyance. Meeting with those old pricks who dared call themselves the Royal Council was the last thing he needed right now. His patience hung by a thread as it was.

Nevertheless, he had been summoned, and no doubt Zelda was to be there as well. And he had once promised never again to let her brave the oft cruel council on her own. Their strength lay in each other, together, not separated and alone.

He tried to calm his waxing temper as he made his way to the Meeting Hall, and succeeded for the most part. At least, he felt he'd ridded his expression of the scowl that had plagued him for the past few hours. Now, whether or not he was prepared to face the infuriating gall of the council members, only time would tell. And time seemed to be pitted against him at the moment, even as he reached the Hall far quicker than he would have liked. Heaving a great sigh, he pushed the door open, and was instantly deafened by the members' bickering.

"I warned King Madrigol that banishment was much too light a sentence!" announced Thoron, quieting the others with the mere strength of his voice. "Ameas and his followers have returned, no doubt, for vengeance. And it was the stupidity of the king, and the foolish support of that era's Hero, that has allowed this ruin to come upon our land!"

"The dragons were allowed to fester," concurred Sir Rihst, "and now they threaten the peace we have worked so hard to accomplish. I believe we have sat idle long enough; I say, recompense! War!" Dozens of 'aye's and 'here, here's followed.

Link took the moment to take his place beside Zelda at the head of the table, and the delegates quieted for a short time.

"Gentlemen…" It was Link's attempt at a greeting, but it came more like a growl. "I suppose you have good reason to resume your foolish bickering at a time such as this. A battle rages as we speak; today, I have no patience for superficial arguments. Not while men shed their blood for our country."

That sobered the atmosphere right quick. The councilors one by one returned to their seats, and settled down, each taking a moment to calm their flaring self-righteousness.

"As you know, majesties, I have served on this council for nearly six generations, now," spoke Thoron, much quieter. "I have witnessed many things, including the banishment of the dragons. Not to offend my queen, but her ancestor was a fool. The people wanted peace, and he was blinded by his obsession to please the public. Ameas…" He paused, studying Link and Zelda. "You… know of Ameas Night, do you not?"

Zelda nodded, but Link leant forward, curious. He had never heard this bit of Hylian history. "I'm sorry, chancellor, but I'm afraid I've never heard the name before."

Thoron didn't look surprised, and Link barely suppressed his flare of indignation before the old man began speaking again.

"Ameas Night. One of the last intelligent dragons to walk the face of this earth, and inherent of the draconic throne. You see, there was once a skyworld, hidden in the clouds, kept aloft by the hand of God Himself. Ages after the Hylian race emigrated to the surface, dragons took rule there, and made a kingdom for themselves. But they had little vegetation, and hunting was difficult in the skies compared to the abundance of the earth below. Ameas' father, Kador Knightshard, grew restless amongst the clouds… He decided that the surface should belong to the dragons as well. I was apprenticing as a royal guard at the time, and I saw the dragon forces descend on this city like an armored cloud…" Thoron paused, and then turned his steely eyes to the king and queen. "They were beaten. Madrigol, with the support of the Hero of that age, issued draconic banishment. And now, Ameas has returned."

"But why now, is what I want to know," piped Lord Artuch, one of the quieter delegates. "It has been generations. Why not enact his revenge in years previous?"

"Much has happened, and Ameas has had to wait on time. His father perished on that prison island of theirs fifteen years ago." Thoron stroked his long white beard.

"Why wait fifteen years?" Impa asked skeptically. "Dragons are not known for their patience."

"He must be plotting something," Zelda concluded. "He has had generations to prepare, and it seems everything has come to a head."

"The dry year." Everyone turned to Link, who leaned studiously on the armrest of his chair, chin settled in his palm.

"What do you mean?" It didn't surprise Link that Rihst, as well as most of the others, looked confused at the seemingly random bit of information.

"He's been waiting for a dry year. Without the luxury of rain, our crops and economy have suffered; Hyrule is no longer as prosperous as it once was. We are weakened, and Ameas must know this somehow. And not only are we in a compromising position, but without moisture, a dragon's fire becomes that much more potent."

Thoron nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, yes… That would make sense. Ameas has been waiting on two forces over which he has no control – time… and climate."

"And this year happened to be the opportune year for him." Zelda placed a hand over Link's under the table. "It's the driest we've had in decades."

"Your majesties…" spoke Sigil hesitantly, epiphany written in his tone as he stared at the table. "I can't help but wonder… Could any of this be associated with Prince Caine's disappearance?"

"You imply that the prince is in league with Ameas Night?" Impa's chastisement made the other councilor flinch visibly. "You are quite daring, Sigil. How could the prince even know of these things?"

"No, no. Not at all. But perhaps the prince has been taken for Ameas's own sinister whims, say… ransom, perhaps?"

"He no doubt knows of our financial floundering," said Thoron. "Even as the villain he is, he is bound by good form. One cannot demand something another does not possess."

"You think he's after something other than wealth?" Link didn't miss the fear in his wife's voice, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"He has an abundance of wealth as it is," said Impa. "They are dragons, after all."

"Then what?"

Sigil glanced between the royal pair. "…Both of you, after all, are descendents of the king and Hero who issued the dragons' banishment."

Something clicked. The floodgates were opened, and dread rushed into Link. He felt the color drain from his face. "You think he's after us?"

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"Sigil is right, in the fact that it is a very possible option. Whatever the case, though," Thoron turned to all of them. "We must be wary. Ameas has not yet been sighted on the mainland. This could quite possibly mean there is much more to come. His plan is yet in motion, and we are clueless as to what pieces have been stationed on the board."

~-LoZ-~

The southern woods fed the flames all too easily. They roared, and flared, flaunting their size and intense heat as a peacock flares his wondrous tail feathers. They licked at tree branches, consumed trunks and underbrush, and danced over the dry autumn leaves that dared remain on the branches. Any Kokiri village that lay in its path quickly vacated, as Saria and her company did now. Their precious village, their lifetime home, which held so many sweet memories, would soon be overtaken by the fiery storm.

"Quickly!" she called as she supervised their departure. The heat was growing in intensity, and sparks danced through the air like fairies. "To the Lost Woods! Hurry, run, go!"

The Kokiri, helpless to stop it, scattered into the woods like frightened rabbits as the flames began to devour their homes. As they ran, a massive shadow passed over them, and then was gone.

~-LoZ-~

"Scouts report that they're closing in. Faron Spring is all but taken, and they're burning and pillaging as they go." Zelda examined the wounds on her husband's arm with great scrutiny; she was determined to find one reason – one reason at all! – that he should stay home. To her disappointment, the burns were healing nicely, and Link claimed they didn't hurt hardly at all. She bit her lip, and pretended to keep studying until she was done applying the salve.

But she should have known she couldn't fool him – he, the man that knew her better than any and all. He stilled her hands, and tilted her face so that she looked up at him. She saw the intense understanding, reassurance, and love in his gaze, and felt like bursting into tears.

He stood, and pulled her to her feet as well. Before she had any chance of blurting out an excuse, he wrapped his arms about her, holding her close against him. She buried her face into his shoulder, trying to blink away the moisture in her eyes. He reached up to stroke her hair.

"Shhh…"

She swallowed a sob. "I just… Why must you go again? You've only just returned…"

"It's been seven days, love." His voice was quiet as he whispered in her ear. "It's my responsibility."

"But… aren't we?" She thought of Erulissë, and Abyll. At the tender ages of three and eleven, they needed their father desperately, and while he hadn't ever been gone for very long, the time he was gone was spent in prayer and anxiousness – hoping beyond hope that he'll come home safely.

But that wasn't the true reason for Zelda's wish for him to stay. She had never wanted to be parted from him, even before they were wed.

He leaned back just far enough so that he could look her full in the face, and she looked down as he furrowed his brow. "Zelda… Of course you are. If you don't know that, then I've failed you as a husband."

"No…" She rested her hands on his chest, absently and nervously fiddling with the laces on the collar of his shirt. "No, I… That was my selfishness talking. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said it."

She stopped as he laid his hands over hers, calming her fidgety fingers by holding them against his chest. "Then you know why I have to go?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes downcast to keep him from seeing her look of disappointment. "Yes…" Problem was, she wasn't very good at hiding it from her voice. A shiver traveled down her spine as his fingers brushed up her neck to her face. His thumb traced over her lips, and he slowly lifted her chin.

"You still don't sound too happy about it."

She stared sadly into his brilliant blue eyes. "Did you expect me to?"

"Not really." When he covered her lips with a kiss, she returned it with slow sadness. Her mind sought for something, anything to keep him in her sight, but if there was a way, it eluded her.

They parted, and Zelda felt hot tears burning in her eyes as she rested her forehead on his chest. "Please Link… Please don't go. Not again." She knew this was a foolish and vain thing to request, but she couldn't keep the words behind her tongue. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath of his scent – pine, the wild breeze, and fresh earth. She could never forget that scent, the very essence of him. She never wanted to.

His hold tightened around her, and she knew she had struck something. Immediately, she felt guilt for trying to dissuade him from his duty. It wasn't fair to take advantage of the very fact that he would do anything for her. He was only trying to do what he believed to be right, and she was supposed to be supporting him.

"Link…" A thought struck her. In reality, she did have something she wanted to confide in him, and it would be the perfect thing to keep him here within the castle walls – for a long time, even. But… She couldn't. "I'm sorry… It's your charge. I shouldn't be persuading you so." Reluctantly, she shrugged his embrace off and stepped away from him. She looked up into his face, and detected bewilderment, and a twinge of hurt in his gaze, and she mentally slapped herself.

It was impossible for her to detach herself from him for long, and when she turned away and put her face in her hand, she let him envelope her once more.

_How pitiful I am… Why am I falling apart now? He's faced greater dangers before… _But of course, that was all before they had married, before they had children together, before they had raised them into the gems they were now.

"Zelda… Please don't doubt me so. You… Do you truly expect me to be injured or… killed so easily?"

She whirled about, and clasped his face gently between her hands. "No! No, no, no…" She took a deep breath to recompose herself, and gathered her wits. "No… I have faith in you, Link. I know that you will pursue this evil until it is vanquished, and when it is, you will return in triumph and glory, as the king and Hero you are. I know… that you will return to us… to me." She found herself believing her words, and she saw hope rekindled in his gaze.

"You will return… You will return. I know you will."

She then realized how potent her pleas for him to stay had really been. And had she doubted his ability so severely that she believed he would be injured? She felt shamed; how dare she doubt him, or God for that matter! It was His plan that mattered, far above her own selfish, pitiful desires. And it seemed the plan was for Link to join his soldiers, as was rightful, and just.

No matter how much it pained her to see him go again.

~-LoZ-~

Smoke to the south had become a regular appearance, now. Link felt fury swell in his chest as he stared beyond Lon Lon's pastures, and beyond the forests, to the everlasting cloud of smog rising above the trees.

It hadn't taken long for Link and his regime to reach Lon Lon – the ranch wasn't far from the capitol. And while they didn't plan on battling the dragons anywhere near them, Malon and her family had been kind enough to give them hospitality for the night. And night, indeed was falling over the soldiers' camp. The sun was just a sliver of light on the horizon, and stars slowly but surely peeked their twinkling faces through the blanket of twilight.

"Sire, do you see that?" said a nearby lieutenant, staring off into the distance. Link looked away from the cloud of smoke, and toward the same direction. "That dark figure… It seems awfully late for anyone to be out; particularly with dragons closing in."

There was, indeed, someone just exiting the edge of the woods. The largest shadow looked to be a horse, with what might've been a rider hunched over the saddle, and someone leading it by the bridle. Their going was slow, and almost drunken. Whoever it was seemed either not in their right mind… or injured. Link stood, and stepped away from the campfire.

"Light some torches. You, and you, come with me. We'll investigate."

The threesome was ready in mere seconds and, each carrying a torch to light the way, they set out toward the staggering silhouette. The sun had all but disappeared when they neared enough to be heard.

"Who goes there? Are you friend or foe?" called one of the captains that accompanied Link, drawing his sword.

The shadow stopped, and held still, swaying. Then, a soft, trembling voice answered. "F-f-friend…"

Link's eyes widened. "It's a woman! Stay your blades." He swung out of Epona's saddle, ignoring the jolt as his feet landed on the dry, hard ground. He held the torch aloft, letting the light splash over the stranger. It illuminated ash blonde hair framing a pale, pretty face, and bright green eyes nestled in their hollow depths. She was thin, and frail-looking… particularly with the long red slash across her midsection that stained her clothes red.

He knew her face instantly. "Ilia!"

She opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. Link was at her side immediately, and scooped her up in his arms after being sure she was still breathing. "Tend to the horse…" His words drifted off when he saw that the beast of burden had an occupant.

"Mummy…" the little girl muttered, pale and sweating, swaying dizzily in the saddle.

_That must be her daughter… _He glanced to the men, and one of them nodded and carefully extracted the child from her perch, cradling her in the same way Link carried Ilia. The third took the horses, two with each hand, and they turned and hurried back toward the campsite.

Link and the soldier carrying Ilia's daughter continued past the camp, toward the ranchhouse. Upon being close enough to hear, Link called up to it. "Malon! Davhed! Come, quickly!"

The door opened, and a streak of light stretched out over the yard, and Link quickly stepped into it to avoid tripping over anything in the darkening terrain. Malon stood in the frame and her hand flew over her mouth, stifling a gasp. She stepped aside to let the two men through.

"Davhed, boil some water!" she called to her husband, and recovered to lead Link and his soldier to a place where both Ordonians could be laid. "And heat a knife."

As soon as Ilia and the girl were laid on cots, and Davhed entered with a pail of steaming water, and the hot knife wrapped in animal skin, Malon ushered all the men out and shut the door.

~-LoZ-~

Link stared up at the full midnight moon, studying each crater with half-hearted intensity, and spotting each and every constellation he knew, which was saying a lot. It had been hours since he had brought Ilia and her daughter in. While outwardly, he seemed calm and collected, inwardly he was a wreck of anxiety. It had been so long since he saw his childhood friend, and now, upon their reunion, Ilia appeared to be gravely wounded. The coincidence of it was incredible.

He jumped when the door opened behind him, and Malon came out onto the porch, sinking onto the steps beside him and tucking her red hair behind her ear. Link studied her for a long moment, waiting for her to speak first.

When she finally did, her voice was quiet. "She's all right… Both of them are. They stabilized about twenty minutes ago…" She stared at her hands clasped in her lap, her gaze shifting at some unknown thought. "The little girl… had lost a leg…"

Link blanched, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. How had he not seen that? He was about to speak these very words when Malon interrupted him.

"We didn't notice until we unwrapped all the blankets from around her. I think… Ilia tried her best to bind and tourniquet it, but… We'll have to watch closely for infection."

Link nodded, and Malon was silent for another long expanse of time. He looked to the skies, and sent up a prayer of thanks that they were alive.

She spoke again, and made him jump. "Ilia… The wound on her stomach was deep… We disinfected it as best we could, and stitched it up, but…" She looked about ready to cry, and her hands shook. "We…" She took a deep, shaky breath. "We couldn't save… the baby."

**A/N: **I know, I know, Malon and Ilia were never in the same game, but who cares? It's fanfiction. XP It works.


	12. Chapter 11: Face to Face

**A/N: **A hearty thank you to **ARandomDay**, **hurricaneclaw**, , **TheTextingNeko**, and **Hydraya** for all your reviews! God bless you!

P.S. Is this enough of Caine for you? ;)

~Penelope

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Face To Face**

"_For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places._

_Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." ~ Ephesians 6:12-13_

Caine watched the trees pass by in monstrous green blurs as he sailed over them, relishing the sweet, cool night air on his face. He snorted smoke from his flaring nostrils; he sensed danger, adrenaline, and excitement. The dragon army was eager. And no small wonder – they flew ever northward, closer and closer to Keskus.

His eyes strayed to the massive black dragon flying alongside him, wings batting so close that Caine could feel their wind. Ameas had said nothing during the entirety of the conquest, and had merely sat outside the cities as his soldiers pillaged and then set them ablaze. But through his crimson eyes, Caine could see the gears whirling in the great dragon's head, and knew that something big was about to happen.

They flew for Tarha, a city not a mile from the famous Lon Lon ranch. Their trail north was blazed – quite literally. The fire raged over the forests, and consumed the dry autumn terrain. With its powerful heat at their backs, and Ameas Night at their head, nothing could stop them.

The lights of Lon Lon came into sight. Caine frowned; no, that wasn't Lon Lon… Those were the miniature beacons of campfires. Many of them, scattered just outside the ranch's limits.

"Ameas…" Caine meant to point them out, but Ameas rumbled.

"I see them…" His eyes seemed to have brightened, lighting up like the firelight under the moon's aura.

An encampment? But… who?

"It's the king and his company."

Caine looked up at Ameas, wondering how it was the dragon seemed to know his thoughts, but relaxed upon seeing the narrowing of his eyes, the deep concentration on his scaled face. With his trained eyesight, most likely Ameas could see any emblems or uniforms in the camp ahead.

"Do we attack them?" Caine asked, and Ameas turned his great head about to gaze at him.

After a moment or two of making the prince fidget under his intense gaze, the dragon chortled.

"Is there any other way?"

~-LoZ-~

Link saw the great approaching shadow before anyone else reacted. He leapt from his place on Malon's porch, and stared with horror as it drew closer. When he spoke, his voice was low, tainted with determination, warning… and a hint of fear.

"Malon, take your family, Ilia, and her daughter, and leave quickly."

Her confusion was evident in her words. "But… What?"

"Quickly, Malon. Death comes on wings…" He could see the massive mainstays as the tips brushed the moonlit treetops. "Escape while you can!"

Without further question, she scrambled to her feet and disappeared into the house. Within moments, the candles in the windows flickered out, and the ranch was plunged into darkness. In the silence that followed, Link swore he could hear the heavy beating of draconic wings.

"Sire!" called a soldier from the encampment. "…It's…"

It was upon them. The great shadow angled its scaled wings upward, halting its monstrous momentum and dropping to the ground. Its claws gouged pits into the earth, and it trembled. Link staggered, even as he maneuvered through the soldiers' camp. He reached the head, and stared up at the colossal beast.

Scales like shining black armor, and wings as large and long as a brigantine. Massive spines and a thicket of crests and frills adorned its head, and its tail swung long and heavy as the tallest tree. But what made him shiver were its eyes. Link had never seen such wicked eyes, overflowing with malice, contempt, and outright bloodlust – not even Ganondorf's haughty golden gaze compared. In those scarlet depths, he saw swirling murder, deceit, pride, and a deep, hard determination. For a spare moment, Link thought of how Zelda had always said he seemed to come alive when protecting those he loved; she claimed she could always see the fury and resolve in his eyes, and Link could only hope that he never, ever looked like the dragon that now stood before them.

Then, Link saw the army. They hoarded behind the great one like a swarm of bees – killer bees. All of them snorted and shrieked in fiendish excitement. While he could see no definite colors or features in the dark night, he could see clearly the hundreds of little floating pinpoints of red light – their eyes. The dragon army was restless, and countless as far as that went. Link surveyed his own troops, and knew it would take a miracle to defeat the beasts. The odds were stacked ten to one!

The great dragon then spoke, its voice deep and rumbling, and Link saw many of his men shudder. "Stand down, O king of the Hylians, and you and your men shall be spared."

Indignation swelled in Link's chest, and he stepped from the edge of his army, looking up at the monstrous creature. "You will go no further! Go back from whence you came!"

~-LoZ-~

Caine expected his father to be too proud to back down now. He would claim that many had lost their lives to defend Hyrule, and they would not let them die in vain. _But wouldn't it be in vain if they all died as well? _He had never quite seen his father's logic, and it made him chortle even now.

"I would advise you, Link," said Ameas, raising his voice slightly. Caine could hear the strained irritation. _Welcome to my world. _"Heed my warnings. I am a king of my word; you will escape with your lives if you leave now."

"We will stand until every last dragon is defeated… or we shall die in the attempt."

Caine sighed, and pushed away the little voice in the back of his mind that screamed for the sake of his father. The Hylian king had brought this upon himself; Caine could not change, nor argue with that fact.

"How noble of you…" He saw the glint in Ameas' eyes, and knew the dragon lord preferred this. Making an example of enemies foolish enough to stand in their way. There would be much bloodshed this night.

Then Ameas roared, and the sound made the trees, and the grass, and the puny little soldiers all tremble. That was the go ahead; the dragon army surged forward. Caine led half into the night skies, to attack from above. That was, after all, the most fun.

Screams and battle cries filled the night, sounds which Caine had become quite accustomed to. Though, they had yet to face such a resilient force as this – most had simply run away. If there was anything to be said for King Link's men, it was that they died hard.

Caine swooped down with blinding speed, claws extended, and felt weight on his arms. He clenched his talons, felt something in his grasp, and arced upward again. The knight in his clutches screamed in fear at the staggering height.

"You might've learned by now that all valor is in the end for naught," whispered Caine with a forked tongue into the Hylian's ear, just before retracting his claws and watching the man drop. His scream filled Caine's ears, but was cut short as he plummeted into another soldier and both fell against the ground. Neither got up again.

Some dark force in Caine's being felt exhilarated, and he released a blast of white flames into the air, watching the sparks waft down toward the army.

An arrow chinked off his scaly armor. Then another. Caine growled in annoyance, and pierced the forces below him for the culprit. Amidst the battling soldiers, strewn bodies, and frenzied dragons, it wasn't hard to find the forest green of a certain man's tunic. His eyes burned with fury, and he dropped closer to the throng, keeping the green-clad soldier in his sights.

He knew who he was. And he would not kill him. Merely show him that this certain black dragon was not to be trifled with.

Caine barely had enough time and momentum to dodge upward as the king's blade came arcing upward, straight for his chest. He snarled, and resisted the urge to blurt out in rage: _Are you so blind that you would try to slay your own son? _But he couldn't let his father know who he was. It would shatter the playing field, and each side would become obligated to the other. It crippled Caine enough, knowing he couldn't in his right mind bring great harm to his father. To his chagrin, he still had a deep, emotional tie to the man. But he could, in the limits of his already strained conscience, give the Hylian king a proper warning.

He lashed out with his claws, and felt a jolt as Link parried with his blade. His arm stung slightly where the sword had slit his scales, but nothing more; Caine alighted on the ground a few meters from his father, and deflected another sword stroke with an outward lash of his wings. He noted that he towered over the great Hero, a feeling he had never relished in his time as a Hylian.

With a sadistic grin, he shot a blast of fire at Link, and as the king blocked it with his shield, Caine swooped up and over him, landing firmly behind him and whipping his tail across the armored back. He was met with a satisfactory grunt as the Hero stumbled forward.

But he didn't down him. He wanted a bit more play time. Never before had he possessed such power over his father. And he wanted it to last.

Link whirled to face his adversary, and Caine couldn't help stiffening under his intense gaze. He'd never seen such an expression on his timid, soft-spoken, pushover father's face. This was not the same man that had raised him. This was a warrior, a seasoned soldier, a chosen Hero. And for the first time, Caine could see how Link had earned that title.

A ringing blade jolted Caine from his thoughts, and he furled his wings just in time to dodge a shattering blow to his mainstay. Had he not reacted so quickly… In retaliation, he used the Hero's momentum against him and swiveled to the left, out of his path, all the way around so that his heavy tail now approached from behind. He struck Link at the knees, making him collapse. He puffed his scaled chest at the thought that most foes had never lived long enough to catch the Great Hero off guard, much less attack him from behind. Caine was doing well.

He pounced for the king as he sprawled on the ground, but fluttered away when he nearly met the point of his blade. Caine growled; he couldn't seem to get close enough. His father always had his sword at the ready, and for a moment he wondered if he ever had troubles prying it from his fingers after a battle. He could imagine Link's knuckles were white under the leather gloves as he gripped the hilt.

Caine struck again, this time from above and below. He hovered in the air, using his tail to target Link's feet while swinging his head ram-like just above the Hero's shoulders. But Link was coordinated, and lithe – he brought his shield up, bashing the jaw of the latter, while jumping over the former. Caine staggered backward, stunned. Then Link came in for the kill, gripping the pommel with both hands and thrusting upward, aiming to slide the blade under his black scales and straight through his neck.

But Caine was just as quick. He dodged to the right, and the blade passed through nothing. He chortled as the king's momentum brought him straight into his clutches. He gripped Link's sword arm in a clawed iron fist, grinning wickedly as the Hylian's eyes widened considerably. He bared his teeth in a draconic grin, and swung the Hero about, so that he now stood behind him. Caine placed a taloned foot at the base of the arm he held, just at the shoulder blade and, in a deft move that would've made Impa proud, twisted Link's arm violently backward. His keen ears picked up the sought after _pop_, and the green warrior screamed in pain.

Caine released him, and he staggered forward, uninjured arm clutching for his shoulder. The prince chortled again; it had worked. The Hero of Time was now-

He leapt backward as Link came to life in a vicious whirlwind attack, his blade gleaming in the moonlight in his left hand. He should have guessed; of course he would be skilled with both hands! Snarling, Caine blasted fire at him without much thought. The king had dropped his shield to take up his sword; he attempted a tuck and roll to dodge the flames, and cried out in pain at the slightest movement of his injured arm.

Flames exploded just alongside the battle, and Caine looked up to see Ameas flooding the nearby pasture with fire. The horses screamed and reared in outright panic, galloping for the opposite side of the fence, but he knew it wouldn't be long before they were swallowed by the inferno. With a glance to the hunched figure at Caine's feet, Ameas then turned to the ranch house and, without hesitation, barraged it with his billowing, fiery breath.

With surprising speed, Link leapt to his feet. "No!"

Caine felt a twinge of something – humanity? Something deep within his heart hoped that the innocents that had been in the home had gotten out safely. After all, Malon's family were dear friends, and they had known them for as long as he could remember.

Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Link reaching for his bow which lay idle in the dry grass. The bow? How on earth was he going to shoot it with a dislocated shoulder? But the Hylian king gripped it in his left hand, having discarded the sword, and carefully transferred it to his other hand. When he attempted to lift his arm to aim, the limb only moved a few mere inches before the excruciating pain made another yell erupt from his lips.

In his peripheral vision, Caine saw something dart for him, and he whipped his head about to release a volley of flames. His eyes met the frightened soldier's just before the armored form was swallowed in the ghostly tongues.

A blade flashed, and the point swung for Caine's head. Panic instinct flared up in him, and in a blink, he gripped the sword hand and rammed his head into the head of his attacker. The figure flew backward from the force of the blow, and skidded to a stop on its back. It didn't move again, and Caine's eyes widened when his gaze came into focus on the green of his father's tunic. The king lay still, utterly unconscious. A gash ran diagonally over his forehead, and blood began to ooze into his hair.

While the battle continued to rage around him, he could only stare in shock. No matter how long he stared, his father's form remained prone and motionless. Caine wasn't sure whether to feel guilty, or elated. He, the runaway prince and second fiddle, had beaten the famed Hero of Time! It was only beginning to sink in…

Ameas blasted half the battlefield with writhing flames, and the rest of the soldiers who weren't caught in their heat scattered.

"Retreat!" someone shouted, and the army of Hylians began to fall back to the hills to the north. "Retreat, men! To Tarha!"

Caine, though not sure why, grabbed a passing soldier and flung him toward his father. The man stumbled over the king's body and stiffened with recognition. Caine flew away before he could look back.

~-LoZ-~

Something… something about that dragon's gaze… And what about that arm twist? That was a Sheikah exploit, not the guerrilla tactics of a common dragon! Link carefully rolled his sore shoulder as he rode along. So many questions raced around his head like projectiles from aimless catapults, but he couldn't dwell on them long.

The defeat in Tarha was a hard one. Many good men had lost their lives. The company that rode with him now across the dry grass of Hyrule Field was what was left of his force. Ordinarily, he would have left a good number of strong soldiers behind to continue to defend the city. But there was no city left to defend – the dragons had completely conquered it – and any men that had been left behind were either dead, or gravely wounded and had been smuggled out along with the women and children.

A humbling defeat. A humiliating defeat. Link had never seen such a devastating loss in all his time. Even when Zant and Ganon threatened Hyrule with Twilight, there had still been plenty of hope, and the death toll wasn't near what it was now. Innocents were falling right and left, trampled under the ruthless claws of this relentless, vengeful beast. And thus far, Link had been unable to prevent it.

And on top of it all, he was thoroughly beaten by a seemingly mindless beast – perhaps, not so mindless after all. Dragons generally were not intelligent beings; but this one had shown great skill in combat and had seemed to calculate each move. It had been no brainless animal – it was a skilled warrior. But dragons that reasoned were a rare find – perhaps, then, Ameas Night had an offspring?

Too many questions, and too few answers. The case of which made Link's head ache.

They returned to Keskus the image of a defeated host, and the cries of widowed women and fatherless children soon filled the air over the capitol city with their songs of woe, and mourning.

Link could only be thankful. At the mercy of the dragons, he might've not had the chance to return to his family, as many of his late men had. He might've not held Zelda in his arms once more, might have never seen Abyll's beaming grin, or Erulissë's angelic face again. Such were his thoughts every time he returned safely from a battle, or a quest. He truly had much to be thankful for, even in the face of defeat.

After a long, hot bath to soothe his sore muscles and bruised shoulder, and after slipping into loose, cool clothing, he reclined in his favorite chair by the hearth. No fire burned in its chasm today, and Link stared at the black scorch marks and ash that sat dormant in the pit. His thoughts drifted to Dahved and Malon, and Ilia and her daughter – had they escaped in time? The image of their house doused with flames would remain permanently etched in his mind. He had felt that sinking dread all too often… whenever evil used his love for his friends against him.

He hissed in pain as Zelda's massaging fingers roamed over his tender shoulder, and she paused.

"Sorry… I keep forgetting that's sore." Her voice held a slight ring of amusement, and he couldn't help but grin.

"How am I to know you aren't doing it on purpose?" He looked up at her.

Her response was tilting his chin up a tad further and leaning in to give him a kiss, upside down. But it was sweet as ever, and filled with playful apology. She teased him with her lips, making him shiver before pulling back again, and grinning down at him.

"That better?" Her eyes twinkled, but the only thought on his mind was her kiss.

"Uh-huh…" he said stupidly, and she laughed.

~-LoZ-~

"You seem abnormally quiet this evening, prince," rasped the shadowbat. But Caine didn't turn to look at it. "Are you not pleased with our victory?"

He stared at the carnage that was once the village of Tarha, his gaze hard and intense. His fibery wings quivered in the harsh winds, and he smelled the first frost on its teasing tendrils. A bit of unwanted conscience looked upon the wreckage, and shrieked in guilt and compassion, but that voice grew quieter with each passing hour. A new, stronger voice of power and pride was emerging, and Caine preferred to listen to its words.

_This is what it takes for everyone, including you, to realize your true potential, your true power. You have hidden in the shadows for long enough, but you belong there no more. You are rising, rising! Soon, all shall see who Prince Caine Taurë truly is, and they will see that he is no coward, no weakling, no sniveling pupil of a blundering professor, and certainly no son of the king hidden in his father's shadow. At Ameas' side, you are strong, you are appreciated. He treats you as a son, does he not?_

"Highness?"

"There was a man there…" The words rolled off his tongue, and for a moment, he felt detached from his own voice. As if he had no control over it at all. But the feeling quickly departed, and he sounded himself again. "In the battle…"

"The one you dispatched?"

"I only wish that were so." He was startled at his own words. "But no, he was alive. And I was content to let him live, if only to suffer in the injuries I inflicted upon him. But it was a strange feeling, to battle him…" His gaze darted to the bat. "He was my father."

The creature's foggy eyes widened and it nodded. "Ah, I see… You battled the king of Hyrule, the very Hero of Time? What a feat!"

"Yes… And I felt much pleasure at finally showing myself better than he. But… I could not bring myself to kill him. Even when I stood over him – I had only but to flick my wrist, slit his throat, and it would all be over… But I could not." His brow furrowed, and he stared down at his claws – his tainted, merciless, blood-stained claws. "Why could I not?"

"He is your father, and you are – beneath that dragon's skin – a man. Flesh and blood has much influence over your actions." Caine detected something in the creature's voice, but could not place it. "You could not help the control of your heart over your mind."

"But I've never let it overwhelm me before!" This time, Caine knew it was his own voice. It sounded very much like the pitiful boy he had thought he'd left behind in Keskus. "I took my own brother to the Master Sword just to see him shocked by its power!" The weapon tingled in his grasp as he spoke of it. "Certainly, I could…" The words seemed to die on his tongue. He could not even say it.

"Kill your father?"

He hesitated. Now that it was said out loud, he wasn't sure he could. "…Yes."

"Ah, but it is not so simple. In these kinds of circumstances, one can never be sure when the heart decides to meddle with the affairs of the mind."

How true that was. The heart was a terrible force, prone to lying and easily deceiving men and women foolish enough to let it rule them. Even Caine, who prided himself in the power of his mind, struggled to contain his emotions many a time. But all was becoming well, as the voice of his conscience was slowly dying away, and the calculating, knowledgeable, logical voice of his mind was beginning to take over.

~-LoZ-~

The shadowbat fluttered through the burning city, dodging collapsing structures or flying sparks as he made his way to the center, where waited its master. It cleared a particularly large mound of rubble, and found the clear space of the great square, in which lied the massive, gleaming body of flesh and scales that was Ameas Night. His wings were folded over his back like a regal cape, and he held his head high as he surveyed the devastation with pride.

"Sire…" said the creature, dropping to the ground and touching its forehead to the dirt in a groveling bow. Ameas snorted, and it knew that was all the go-ahead it was going to get.

"The prince struggles… with humanity. He battled his father today, as you saw, and he claims that while he knew he had the opportunity to slay him, he could not. He flounders under the weight of his emotional ties… as you know will not serve our purpose well."

The great dragon snarled. "Stop parroting my own words to me. I am not a groveling buffoon like you wretches; I know what I know, and what I see, and what I hear. I do not need to be told what I already know. And as for these 'struggles of the heart', they are soon to pass. Our hold on the boy's mind grows as we speak. It will not be long before he can resist it no longer."

"What of his sparing of the king? He could have ended it all this very night! Will he not be punished for such an obvious blunder?"

It saw the twitch of its master's lips, and it silenced immediately. It was treaded on glass shards, now.

"No… He will not." The dragon spoke slowly, and threateningly. "If we dare to lift a finger against him, he will run. He is yet a boy; and children tend to be emotional over things such as these. But in the battles to come, he will taste more of the bloodshed, more of the ruthless killing and he will mature quickly. Not even his father could endure the horrors of war as a boy and not return a man. It does strange things to you… War. And when all is said and done, the young prince shall be under our full control, his father will be dead – by our hand, or his – and we will take our rightful places as rulers of Hyrule, and eventually, all of the surrounding provinces."

"What of his brother? The younger one; the one the public favors. Surely he will be bold enough to stand against you."

The bat barely dodged the fireball in time; it should have known better than to wag its tongue. After all, it was impossible to forget Ameas' temper, which was as hot and billowing as the flames from his mouth.

"None shall stand against me!" he roared, and the creature quivered. "If I must purge this land of all foolish enough to brave the heat of my breath, I shall, and I will skewer every one of them on my claws, and crush their bodies in my fists, and lap their blood from my scales! None shall keep me from what is rightfully mine for a second time! Am I clear?"

The shadowbat cowered, and nodded pitifully. Ameas' face twisted in a furious growl, and he angled his great head to bathe the nearest building – one that was still standing, anyways – in a shower of flames. After a few long moments of breathing deeply, the dragon allowed himself a leer.

"And if that young, boisterous prince chooses to sign his own death sentence… then who am I to deny him his wish?"


	13. Chapter 12: Innocents' Blood

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Innocents' Blood**

"_For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, your tongue hath muttered perverseness."_ _Isaiah 59:3_

Zelda had opened the gardens up to Malon and Dahved's family, as well as Ilia, who now wandered along the blossom-less path alone, a dark brown hood pulled over her bowed blonde head. The queen watched with pity as the woman walked as if in a trance, aimless and without much thought wherever the path took her. There was no emotion save despair in her posture – her hunched shoulders, clasped hands, slow step. She looked about as defeated as Link had upon his last return.

Unable to bear seeing the Ordonian in such sorrow, Zelda whirled and made her way straightaway to the gardens, slipping out the servants' door and into the cool, crisp, damp atmosphere outside. Clouds hung like a never-ending blanket over the sky, hiding them from the sun in their shadows, smelling of moisture, yet bringing none. She didn't even give them a second glance, nor a wasted hope – there had been no rain, and there would be no rain.

She weaved her way through the maze that was once a beautiful garden, and she recalled the many mock battles her husband and youngest son had shared in its embrace. Amidst lovely, fragrant blooms of roses, hydrangeas, and chrysanthemums. The fresh scent of peppermint, and the earthy smell of climbing vines. All of that was now gone, replaced with dry, crumbling remains like so many ruins of once great empires now laid to waste away on ancient hills.

It took a few moments to find Ilia, and when she did, Zelda found her sitting on one of the cold iron benches that occasionally graced the pebbled path. The other woman didn't lift her head as she approached.

"Ilia?" said Zelda at long last, and the owner of the name slowly lifted her head. Her vibrant green eyes were dimmed with grief, and vacant.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" The words were mechanical, said automatically rather than from any real need to say them.

Zelda advanced cautiously, studying Ilia as she did so. "I was… just coming out to make sure you're all right."

The blonde did not respond immediately. Instead, her gaze wandered, over the sickly brown of the once lush grass and other vegetation. So much death… Even Zelda, who aimed uncompromisingly to remain optimistic through dire times, could not ignore it. Hyrule was suffering greatly… but perhaps none more so than its people. Innocents – like Ilia and her daughter, Ani.

Her heart broke when she heard a strangled sob from Ilia's throat, and spires of her blonde hair drifted in front of her eyes as she buried her face in her hands.

"If I'm all right… My daughter lost her leg to a dragon, and might lose her life to the infection. My husband is more than likely dead, or a prisoner of war. And… I lost my unborn child. And…" She covered her eyes, and wept bitterly. Zelda flew to her side, sinking down onto the bench and embracing her.

"Ilia…" said she, after several moments filled only with the grieving woman's wails. "Things… are difficult. There is no denying that. And things may seem hopeless. But, in all truth, they are not. The darkest hour of night comes just before dawn. You are yet blessed, even in the face of great loss – you and Ani did not lose your lives. Ani is healing, and both of you are on your way to recovery. Your husband is not yet confirmed dead; there is a chance he will return. Do not give into despair just yet – first light is just around the corner."

~-LoZ-~

They were coming.

Like a dark storm cloud on the horizon. With each passing moment, they drew closer, and closer. Link could almost swear he heard the beating of their fibery wings. A force to be reckoned with, a horde beyond imagination, bent on one thing, and one thing only – the destruction of Hyrule. They rode on the back of the wind, propelled by anger, and hatred. Nothing had yet stood in their way, and there was nothing to stop them from reaching Keskus.

But upon their arrival, they would meet something. The archers were positioned along the wall, the catapults readied on the battlements. Soldiers waited for Link's command within the city. Women and children had been instructed to remain inside until the bells in the castle towers sounded. All had spent the past hour in fervent prayer – they still prayed, as the draconic forces came ever nearer. All was ready.

Link tested his sword arm. A dull ache resounded from his shoulder, but none near as bad as it had been the day after his encounter with the skilled black dragon. He coiled his fingers about the hilt of the sword on his back, and the blade rang against its sheath as he drew it. Epona shifted nervously; the eerie silence of foreboding was affecting even her.

"Easy, girl…" He leaned down to pat her thick neck. "Only a bit longer…" He turned his gaze back to the skies. "They'll be here soon."

The soldiers lining the ramparts around him made no sound – in expectant, and deathly quietness, they waited. Many had not yet seen the dragon forces. The majority had been absent from the battle of Lon Lon, and they could only imagine what awaited them in the struggle to come.

Then, like a blaring war horn, came a great and terrible roar. It echoed off the skies in its thundering timbre, and Link shuddered. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The scaled army was within clear sight, now, hundreds of thousands of hardened scales glinting in the sunlight like polished armor. At the head of the pack flew Ameas Night himself, a great black giant amidst what could have been flying ants.

_Dear Lord…_

Ameas roared again, and blasted southern Hyrule Field with orange breath. The flames danced over the dry grassland, flaring proudly like a bloodied banner in the wind. Thunder rolled from the south, from behind the dragons, the rumbling drum roll of the approaching army.

_Protect this city._

Wind blew dust into Link's face, and he squinted, the images of the dragons becoming unfocused and blurred. He shook his head, and pulled the helmet over his blond locks. Peering now from under the glimmering brow band, he felt the sweat trickle down his forehead to sting his eyes.

_Be with my soldiers, and guide our hands._

Heat rose from the approaching fire, and the wind whipped it over the crest of the walls. The soldiers shifted uneasily. The dragon host approached with the swiftness of death, and the resolve of conquering. Their flight was relentless; this would be a battle to the victor. One, or the other would triumph before the sun sank below the horizon.

_Give us speed and accuracy. Lord, let not this city be taken…_

"Catapults!" Link shouted, and his troops went into immediate action. The catapults roundabout the southern arc of the defense let loose their hurtling projectiles. Great, rounded stones were sent soaring through the air and straight for the front lines of the dragons. Shrieks of agony and surprise were heard as many hit their marks, and a score of flying beasts were downed, plummeting into the fires of their master's doing.

Ameas himself dodged the rocks easily, even as the catapults kept firing. And as the reptiles continued to come, Link took a breath to assure himself this was truly happening.

"Archers, to the ready!"

All about him, soldiers nocked their arrows and drew back the strings, aiming upward and out. They held steady, until the winged force was only a mere fifty yards from them.

"_Fire_!"

Arrows whistled into the air. Link knew it was more than likely a fruitless effort, according to his attempts to shoot the black dragon at Lon Lon, but he could only hope that perhaps, their scales were weaker at their faces, or some lucky shots would hit in the eye.

Only four dragons fell to the arrows. The rest continued their unyielding advance. Link raised a horn to his lips and sounded the call over the city. The dragons were upon them.

Twenty meters. "Fire at will!" He dropped the horn, and gripped his sword all the tighter. "Aim for their soft spots – underbelly, throat. Go against the flow of their scales!"

Link met the first assailant with his blade, which easily plunged upward under the thick scales of the chest. He felt the rush of heat from its body, and leapt aside before it could crush him and Epona under its weight. Then came the sound of hundreds of blades clashing with armor-hard scales in the _ring-clang-clang _that would be forever familiar to Link's ears.

The great form of Ameas flashed overhead, going straight past them and whipping mere men backwards with the wind from his wings. Link ducked under a green dragon, and looked in the direction that the dragon king was headed.

Unhindered, Ameas flew straight for the palace.

Link's stomach sank sickeningly, but lifted the slightest as rocks were catapulted from the castle wall. They halted Ameas' approach some, but the Hylian king knew he was short on time.

"Hold the wall!" he cried, disembodying the head of a dragon that roared in his face. "Hold the wall!"

The sounds of battle – the clanking of armor, the ringing of blades, the gnashing of teeth, and the screams and wails of death and blood – surrounded him as he fought to ride his way down to the ground behind the wall. By the time he reached the bottom, he had slain seven dragons, and more had yet to land upon the Keskus battlements. They crawled over the walls like roaches, writhing and clicking and just as difficult to eliminate.

Link ducked as a soldier and his flailing blade was thrown over his head, and grimaced as the man clattered to the cobblestone road. He reined Epona to his troop's side, helped him up, and then urged his steed on toward the palace. He had never seen the streets so empty, so lifeless, but he had no time to ponder. He looked up from his sights set between Epona's ears – straight ahead – to see dragons beginning to pass through the Hylian defenses and into the city itself. They alighted on houses, and set fire to any visible curtain and cloth.

Epona's sides heaved beneath him, and he knew that the heat from the fires would make it harder for her to endure. But he had to reach the castle; before Ameas did.

A shriek stung his ears, and a shadow loomed behind him. He didn't have the time to evade before the ground fell away, and he and Epona were airborn. Link lost grip on his horse, and then lost track of her as the sights of the city streets blurred in a spinning vortex. Pain erupted everywhere as he rolled over the harsh cobblestone, and skidded to a stop, face to the ground. He felt the sticky warmth of blood trickle down his head as he lied there, unable to get up for only a moment, stunned as he was.

"How the mighty have fallen…" A breathy, low grumble of a voice sounded up the street from him, and he painstakingly lifted his head toward it. His face twisted in pain.

Through the stars, he focused on the black beast that stalked toward him, its gleaming claws clicking on the stone road. Its muscled hide rippled with each deliberate step, and sunlight glinted off its surface and made it shine like jewels. In its left hand, it carried-

"The Master Sword…" The words escaped his bleeding mouth in a whisper, and he wiped away the trickle of blood from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. He then staggered to his feet, gritting his teeth at the ache that consumed his body.

"Look at you. You could have broken your neck, and yet you still get up to fight?" The dragon chortled. "You are more foolish than I thought."

Link's gaze darted about for Epona, but he could not see his precious friend anywhere. "I… will always fight."

"Of course you will. And that will be your death, you know." Its white gaze drifted over Link's head, to the palace beyond. "She doesn't deserve a warmongering vagabond like you, you know. With the title bestowed upon you, you will be a man of war all your days. You can never escape that fate, and you cannot give your dearest love what she truly wants – a life of peace, and a family man."

While he had been able to resist the first words, the last sentence hit him like a knife in the heart. It burned like fire, and his knees threatened to buckle. Deep within himself, he knew this to be true. Zelda wanted, needed a man who could always be there, who could be her steadfast… who could promise to come home every time he left.

The dragon edged ever closer. "You are incapable of ever providing her that comfort. You do not know the hour of your death – how devastated she would be, upon receiving word that some malicious fiend, bent on revenge, has murdered her beloved…"

"No!" Link steeled himself against the poisonous words. "I made her a promise; I will always return to her."

"Oh, so noble. But even you are not invincible. You have weaknesses, few though they may be. You are mortal, after all. You do not have the hide of a dragon; a blade easily pierces the armor of man."

The Master Sword flashed, and Link barely had the time to lift his own blade to block the stroke aimed for his head. The dragon growled, and gave the locked swords a powerful shove, knocking Link backward. His head cracked on the cobblestone, and swirls of black appeared in his vision.

"You are a fool, Hylian!" rumbled the beast, advancing toward him as he struggled to his feet once more. "Your endurance is in vain! Why attempt to prolong the inevitable?" Link ducked under a deadly stroke of the dragon's blade. "You think yourself to be strong." The sword clanged against the ground where his feet had been a mere second before. "Yet, you cannot even protect your own people!"

The tip of the Master Sword nicked Link's temple, and he cried out, his hand flying to his bleeding head as he stumbled backward. He parried the next stroke down, and raised his shield against a barrage of white flames.

A great _crack _sounded over the city, and Link whirled to see Ameas mounted on the highest spire of the palace, having torn the tower in half. The great dragon roared, and threw the disembodied structure into the city. There was a thunderous quake, and the sickening, hollow crash of collapsing stone. A scream tore through the air.

The dragon before him bellowed, and Link swung his blade just in time to detour the Master Sword from its course straight for his heart. But it did not parry it completely; the sword cut through the outer part of his shield arm, and he clenched his jaw against the stinging pain. The dragon withdrew its blade, and swung again. Link dodge backward, and paused just long enough to give a shrill whistle.

The winged demon pushed him further and further back, angling away from the palace, and down a side street. Link, wounded and bleeding, tired quickly. His heart leapt when he heard the clatter of hooves on the pavement.

He turned, and sprinted down the road, and around the corner, catching Epona's broad chest with his arm and swinging up onto her back. The black blur of the dragon down the alley whipped by as he spurred her on toward the castle.

"Thank God you're alive, girl; I thought I'd lost you," he called through the wind to his horse's swiveling ears.

Lightning flickered across the grey skies as they rode for the palace, and when they came upon the wall, Link brought Epona to a screeching halt.

The southern gates lay in ruin, utterly crushed underfoot by the massive beast that now alighted on the palace roof. The courtyard was nothing more than ashes, and fires blazed in the gardens roundabout. _Zelda's gardens… _The flames within his own heart leapt with renewed vigor, and he swung from Epona's saddle onto the charred earth below. Without hesitation, he ran for the doors. When he pulled at the latch, he found them stuck fast.

"Quickly! Open the doors for the king!" he called out. He could only pray they heard him, and not the dragon above.

After a moment, and a clatter from within, the door cracked open the slightest, and someone reached out and yanked Link in by his tunic. The door then slammed shut, and the lock and bar shifted back into place. He caught sight of the many servants huddled at the back wall, at the moment, the safest place in the palace, along with Impa, Abyll and Erulissë, and-

"What are you doing here, Majesty?" said the exasperated guard, sword in one hand, and the other firmly gripping Link's shoulder.

"I had to be sure you were all right. My fight is here," said Link quickly in return. His fist tightened about his own sword hilt, and they all jumped when the castle walls shuddered.

"He's tearing the palace apart…" muttered another soldier, eyes scanning the ceiling as shafts of dust fell from the support beams high above.

"Link!"

He whirled at the sound of his name, and was just about knocked off his feet by his wife's embrace. She tightened her arms about his neck, and nuzzled his shoulder as he carefully wrapped his own arms about her.

Her fingers seemed to search his head, and he winced as they brushed over his wounds. Zelda leaned back – he noted that she wore her own armor, and her bow was strapped to her back along with her quiver – and looked at her hand, now covered in blood, his blood.

"What happened?"

"Long story. Now's not the time to tell it." He lowered her hand, and locked their gazes earnestly. "What are you doing here?"

"Defending my home." Her tone indicated that she knew what he planned to tell her, and he would not get his way this time. Her eyes were hardened with determination; she would not be leaving his side again, now that he had come here.

Then the door quaked with the force of something heavy, and the bang made all of them very nearly jump from their skins. They first darted away from the door, then the men hurried to reinforce it as it shook again from another fierce blow. The wood creaked painfully, and the iron dented.

The doors began to grow hot. The iron slowly shifted from tarnished grey, to a glowing cherry red, and the wooden doors erupted into flames. The defenders of the palace stumbled backward, and cleared away from the growing fire.

"They're breaking through!" yelled one of the Royal Guard, just as the ceiling cracked, and began to peel away.

The door burst in and the black dragon barreled through, the Master Sword glinting in its grasp and ghost flames dancing over its scales. It bared its teeth, releasing an unearthly hiss, and pounced at the soldiers.

"Impa!" Link shouted over the sudden chaos of battle. "Hurry; take the children, and lead everyone into the tunnels! Escape to Kakariko if you can!"

Without waiting, nor having time to see the Sheikah obey, he joined the melee and drove his sword for the dragon's chest as it tossed a guard effortlessly to the side. His arm jolted as the beast gripped his blade, and thrust him backward. Link sprawled onto his back, and the sword skittered from his grasp, across the marble floor.

A feminine battle cry rose, and a flaming arrow flew up at the dragon, at the perfect angle to slip under its hide. But in a flash of its wings, the arrow was deflected, and the beast blasted a wave of fire at the queen. She dove from its path, straight into its claws. It gripped her arm, and flung her to the ground.

Link felt fury rage up inside of him, and his gaze swung to his blade, halfway across the cavernous hall. He scrambled to his feet, only to feel the pain as something cracked across his back, and he was flung into the opposite wall. He collapsed to the floor in a dazed heap, pain throbbing through his head and stars swirling before his eyes like fairies. He heard the dragon chortle, but couldn't seem to get up again…

~-LoZ-~

His mother's scream reached him just as they were descending into the tunnels that exited from under the palace. His ears twitched, and he glanced back, not bothering with the blond lock that fell in his eyes.

"Abyll?" said Lady Impa, pausing in her ushering of the servants into the inky blackness of the passageway ahead. "What are you…"

"Mum's in trouble," Abyll muttered, fingers twitching into fists. "I have to help them!"

Ignoring the Sheikah's yells for him to stop, he ran as fast as his feet could carry him up and out of the dungeons, and into the main level of the palace. His footsteps echoed in the stone hallways, and he could hear the sounds of the battle somewhere nearby. He was getting close…

He knew he'd come upon it when he saw the light from fire blaze just around the corner. He slid to a halt just before he reached the open, and quite suddenly wondered what he planned to do. He had no weapon, and to be honest to himself, he was in no hurry to do battle with a real dragon.

"_No! Stay away from her!" _He heard the panic and anger in his father's voice. Well, he had to do something!

Then, a glimmer along the wall caught his eye. A fallen sword! He glanced around the corner, and darted into the open to fetch it. When he turned, he caught sight of something he was sure to never forget.

A great hole gaped in the ceiling, edges licked with flames, the rubble of which was strewn about the room. A muscular creature of ebony, scales black as night and eyes white as a phantom, stood amidst a throng of soldiers, fallen or fighting. It wielded a blade that shone in the firelight – the Master Sword! This was the beast that had stolen the sword! And kidnapped his brother! He clenched his jaw, and tightened his small fingers about the sword hilt. The blade felt surprisingly light in his grasp.

"You leave my parents alone, beast!" He darted forward into the swarm, heading straightaway toward the creature that held his mother secure in its long tail, and his father aloft by the throat.

"Abyll, no!" Mum screamed, but he could not stop now. He swung the blade at the dragon, and it glanced off the thick scales, jarring his arm. He grimaced.

_I'm so stupid! How could I forget their scales… _Darting to the side, he just barely avoided the dragon's other fist, his eyes wide. He didn't dare look into its ivory gaze – he'd surely go stiff with fear.

He rolled under the dragon's body to his feet on the other side, raised his blade, and thrust it into its scaly hide, just behind the shoulder. The dragon screamed and thrashed in pain, throwing both his mother and father in different directions. The Master Sword gleamed in its claws as it brought it down upon him, missing him by inches as he darted away.

"Insolent boy!" it shrieked in rage, swinging the blade again. Abyll backpedaled, and tripped over the body of a fallen guard. Instantly, the dragon's claws were wrapped about him, and he struggled in its grasp.

"Let me go, lizard!" said he, prying at its fingers and pounding on its forearms, but the creature didn't even flinch. With its eyes blazing like its fire, it hoisted him into the air and flung him effortlessly across the room like a ragdoll. He thudded onto a cushion of dead soldiers, his head clanging against the metal of the armor. He shook the stars away, and looked up in time to see the monster drop the Master Sword, and grip a monstrous stone – a great foundation brick from the wreckage that was once the ceiling. Then, the stone was soaring through the air, straight for him.

It missed him by mere inches, and crashed into the pillar behind him, shattering it like glass. He covered his head with his arms as shards of it rained down on him.

~-LoZ-~

"Abyll!" Link felt the word leave his mouth as the pillar collapsed and buried his son, but he could not hear it. In fact, the entire room seemed to have gone silent, and he could hear only the sickening rumble as the heavy stone rained down on the young prince until he could see him no more.

Then, came the fury, the rage – it rose up within him like a shadow from the grave, its wretched claws piercing his heart and making it clench painfully. His vision blurred, and something hot and wet began to make its way down his face, but he paid it no heed. At the moment, his gaze sought for nothing save the familiar glint of…

The Master Sword. There it lay, amidst the bodies, waiting for him. The dragon was distracted as it hurled itself at guard after guard with a vengeance, eyes now red like the blood that stained the marble at their feet. Link approached the fallen blade unhindered, and when his fingers gripped the hilt, the blade glowed golden like the sun. He lifted it high into the air, letting the light bathe the room in a holy glow.

The dragon shrieked, and stumbled back, blinded. The soldiers paused in their battle, turning to catch a glimpse of the Hero of Time, holding his chosen blade aloft.

Link released a battle cry loud and determined, and it made the dragon tremble. Staggering backward, the creature fumbled for the doorway.

But he would not let it get away so easily – not after it had just murdered his son. He pursued it into the courtyard, face tightened with resolve, and swung the blade at its back. It swiveled away from the blow, and stumbled over the scorched remains of an urn. Thudding onto its side, it writhed like a snake.

His blade was already making its way toward its chest. He saw a flash of black out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly he was skidding across the blackened ground. He coughed violently when he came to a stop, trying desperately to expel the ash from his lungs.

Ameas loomed over them, chortling. He picked up the smaller black dragon, and took to the skies above the city.

"Retreat!" he called, in his booming voice, as he flew southward. "Retreat to Tarha! The Hero has regained his blade!"

A chorus of roars and shrieks echoed up from the walls, and it was like unto a cloud of fog lifting from a valley. Only this cloud was black and stained with the blood of the innocent men, women and children that had once inhabited this peaceful city of Hyrule. The draconic forces moved as one, disappearing to the south as quickly as they had come. And for a brief moment, all was still.

Then a great cry began to drift into the air as the widowed, and orphaned released their woe and despair to the winds upon discovering the lost, bathed in their own blood, slaughtered at the hand of ruthless, unfeeling tyrants. Link's own heart clenched; he was among those who wept and mourned even now, for he too had lost someone he loved.

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter took a bit longer. We had a busy week.


	14. Chapter 13: Black Veil

**A/N: **Whoo! Two chapters in one day! =D

…

…

I almost made myself cry writing this one.

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Black Veil**

"_Then David and the people that were with him lifted up their voice and wept, until they had no more power to weep."_ ~ _I Samuel 30:4_

The castle bell tower had fallen. No ominous ringing echoed over the dismal sky. Only the cold, unfeeling wind accompanied the procession down the overgrown path to the royal sepulcher. It laid to the north, that ancient burial grounds, separate from the cemetery of the commoners. The underground chambers housed the coffined remains of monarchs of the past several hundred years.

And now, it would be the new home to the ever so small body of Abyll Taurë, youngest son of King Consort Link Taurë, and High Queen Zelda the Wise.

Against all that was screaming within him to go and throw himself into the high winds over Hyrule Field, gallop Epona far away from here, and return only when he'd filled that sudden hole in his heart, Link led the march to the Black Veil Crypt. So called after Zelda's ancestor, Queen Delilia Madrigol Cordelius, mourned herself to death in the presence of the tombs. Legend had it that the woman, grieving the loss of her husband to a bloody battle, opened the casket and laid a black veil over his face, and neither slept nor ate for months. They found her form of skin and bones lying over the rotting corpse of the king, mere hours after she died. The black veil couldn't even be pried from her stiffened fingers.

Since then, it had become a custom for the current queen to lay a black veil over each new coffin to enter the crypt. Today, Zelda would do so for the little box that held their son.

Even now, three days after the great battle, the memory of returning to the castle haunted Link's mind every waking moment. His rush up the great stairs, his hurry to reach the mound of rubble from the pillar… Part of him wished he hadn't been so quick. For when he uncovered the boy…

He'd never seen so much blood concentrated in such a small space. Abyll's form had barely been recognizable. Link had resisted the urge to pull the mangled body from the wreckage and search for any sign of life. It was ridiculous to think there would have been; he had seen the emptiness of those once vibrant blue eyes. They had stared, unnervingly so, up at him from under a bloodied brow… They would never sparkle again. Never wrinkle at the edges as he laughed, never squint when he was deep in thought, never accompany a puckered lip in a look that could crumble anyone's resolve…

Hang it all, he was crying again. He was the king, a warrior, the Hero of Time! Such a man as he did not cry… But even he saw straight through his own façade. At the moment, he was not a king. He was not a soldier. He was not the Hero of Time.

He was a father, mourning the violent loss of his eleven-year-old son.

He'd never felt such a churning in his gut as when he'd stumbled away from his son's crimson-stained body. He had truly felt as if he would be sick. He had faced gruesome monsters and vile creatures in his time, but he had never, not once, been queasy at the sight of blood. But this wasn't just some mindless creature's fluids – this was the red stain, the very lifeblood, of his own son. Abyll – sweet, sweet Abyll…

And then Zelda… She had been ill, very ferociously. He would never forget her scream – a sound of pure agony, shock, and repulsion. She had seen the blood, the carnage… and fled to retch onto the ash just outside the ruined castle doors. Link had wanted to go to her, help her, hold her, but he had been rooted to the spot, unable to move. He was told later, during a mechanical walk about the remains of the palace halls, that she had fallen unconscious after she was sick.

Link's gaze shifted, and he craned his head around to get a good look at his wife now. There was no color to her face – she looked white as a ghost, only sadder. Her long lashes hovered over her cheeks, her painted eyelids hiding her azure eyes, which he knew lacked their usual brightness. She wore her hair in a tight braid instead of loose and free and flying. A veil – the very black one she would lay on Abyll's grave – shielded her face from the rest of the world.

He longed to reach out to her, to envelope her in his embrace, to shield her from the hurt and pain, but somehow, he couldn't. Perhaps he knew that he could not save her from a despair that threatened to overtake him as well.

The crypt was just ahead. Its great, dark entrance gaped like an open mouth, awaiting its latest meal, as the tall, dry grass danced on its crest. Two great, aged oak trees stood guard at either side of the doorway, their strong bows stretching forth to receive the most recent unfortunate royal that had fallen victim to death's cruel hand.

Link swung from Epona's saddle, ignoring the jar of his ankles as he landed stiff on the hard earth. He led his horse aside, and the pallbearers continued to carry the small, light coffin forward, closer and closer to the waiting cavern. Zelda dismounted also, the skirts of her simple black gown playing at her ankles as she fell into step behind them. Link then took his place at her side, and they followed the casket in.

Darkness enveloped them, along with the musky, earthy scent of underground. It was damp, and dank, and the mere atmosphere of the place brought Link's morale to an all-time low – it reeked of death. Not in the physical sense; but it was as if the very earth about them was melancholy with grief.

The monotonous drone of the clergyman's voice drifted down the tunnels from outside, muffled through the many feet of solid ground. More than likely, he was attempting to comfort the mourners with stories of Abyll's blessed life, and the promises that they would see him again someday, in the future. For a reason beyond him – he blamed it on the mental strain of it all – the very idea angered him. It angered him, and filled him with regret, and guilt.

Abyll had barely passed eleven years. Link would never see him grow into a fine young man. He would never get to teach him everything there was to know about swordplay, nor would there be any more late night talks, just the two of them, father to son. Abyll would never find the one the Lord had chosen for him, and he would never have a family of his own. He'd never seen the majesty of Snowpeak, or the wonder of the Bridge of Eldin, or the vast Gerudo deserts. He hadn't even finished school.

So many wonderful things – and because Link had been unable to protect him, because Link had _taught _him to be so courageous, Abyll would miss out on all of it.

_I should have been a better father._

He blinked, and realized that they stood before the gaping hole that was to be his son's resting place. The shadows hung so thick within, that as the pallbearers carried the coffin through the door, they disappeared altogether. He heard a hollow thunk, and knew that the box had been laid on the designated pedestal.

When the bearers exited once more, Zelda proceeded into the darkness of the room. All was then silent, save the despondent howl of the wind through the corridors, though Link thought he heard something like a stifled sob from the grave room. The queen soon emerged once more, and he caught sight of the sparkling of tears on her face.

The veil had been laid. It was time to go.

They stalked single file out of that house of death with the exception of two of the bearers, who lingered yet to seal the tomb. As they stepped out of the shrouds and into the grey light of the day, the clergy cast them a glance, and bowed his head.

"Father God, our young prince will be greatly missed. We ask that You heal the wounded hearts this day, and bring comfort to his parents, his family, and all those who mourn this heavy loss. Touch them now, and be with them in this time of sorrow. Amen."

The rest of the witnesses echoed a soft amen, and Link heard the rumble and resounding _thud _as the door deep within the tomb was sealed. Abyll now slept with the graves of his forbearers, peaceful, unfettered by the wars and grieves of this world. His spirit was gone on to the paradise of Heaven, to await there with his King until his family joined them, and they were all together for eternity.

_Dear Lord, I don't think I can wait that long… O God! Help me… _His chest began to ache once more. He couldn't imagine life ahead without Abyll, without his son, his little boy. First Caine, now Abyll. Both of his sons had been stolen from him, right out from under his nose. By the dragons.

He knew he was under emotional strain, and it was wearing on him. But vengeful fury welled up in him at the very thought of those wretched, cursed beasts! Cruel-hearted, unfeeling, murderous monsters! Something in him wanted to burst away from the mourning party that very moment, and track down those wretches until every last one of them was dead! He felt a hatred he'd never known before; and while he knew, deep down, it was wrong of him to think such things, for the moment, he was glad to let that anger burn away his sorrow.

But the anguish returned full force when the last two pallbearers came out from the crypt, and all began to depart from that woeful place. All except for Link, and Zelda.

They stood in silence, but it was not the usual companionable silence that they often shared together. It was harsh, and cold, and cruel. It tore at Link's heart as the biting wind made him shiver – he wanted to touch his wife, to hold her. He wanted them to lean on one another as they had always done in times previous. But something, something grief-stricken and angry kept her a few feet away from him.

He moved first. Gently, he reached out and laid his hand on her arm. His throat tightened when she didn't react in the least. Her gaze remained fastened to the mouth of the tomb. His brow furrowed with slight confusion, and he stepped closer.

This time, she pulled away. Though without looking at him, she remained the same distance apart. He tried again, with the same results.

"Zelda…" said he, placing his hand on her shoulder once more.

This time, she erupted.

"NO!" The word was practically a scream as she leapt away, turning her furious glossy eyes to him. A lone tear streaked down her ivory face, and her lip quivered. "You're going to stand there and tell me that everything is all right like you always do; well, it isn't!"

He stared at her, stunned into brief silence by her uncharacteristic outburst. He fumbled for words to respond. "Zelda, I-I-"

"Oh, I don't want to listen to you right now! It's your fault he's dead!"

The words hit him like a brutal slap, and he recoiled from her, as if his hand had been singed. The proverbial knife pierced his heart, and for a moment, he could form no words over the lump in his throat.

Zelda continued, raking her fingers through her hair and gripping it at the roots. "You had to tell him! You just had to tell him! If you hadn't told him all those stories of heroic rescues and deeds of valor, he would have fled, ran away with the others! But he wanted to be just like you, Link; why oh why did he have to choose you! He wanted to be like you…" She was beginning to sob, tears flowing freely now. "It's because of you that he was foolish enough to try and battle that dragon, because of you that he jumped willingly into danger! And now, he's _dead_! Dead! Never coming back!"

The knife had been twisted, and he could bear it no longer. Without a word, he jumped into Epona's saddle, clutched the reins, and fled. Fled that dismal place, that cursed hill, fled the hurt, the grief, the guilt, and Zelda's stinging words.

An hour passed, and he had reached Lake Hylia before he realized his throat was raw from sobbing – sobbing, crying like a pitiful child. But the agonized sounds continued to pour from his mouth, and he was powerless to stop them. His eyes felt hot and swollen, but the salty tears had yet to cease falling. He came to the lake shore and practically fell from Epona's back onto the damp banks, his knees instantly becoming soaked. An tormented groan of pain and sorrow wrenched from his throat, and he buried his face in his hands, back bent under the weight of guilt and grief, and wept.

Wept bitterly, long, and hard. His cries echoed over the waters of the lake, returning to mock him after exploring their reaches.

The Hero of Time had crumbled. But this time, there was no one to gather the pieces.

He did not know how much time passed. Clouds obscured the sun, and there was no difference in the light when he finally looked up again. His tears were spent, his eyes stiff and dry, his face stained with salt. With his grief exhausted, he felt like a shell – brittle, worn, and empty. He stared emotionless at the rippling surface of the lake. It usually looked so calm, so peaceful, so pure. Yet now, dyed grey by the reflection of the dreary clouds, it held no joy, no freedom.

But he felt a desire to enter its chilling embrace nonetheless. He slipped his thick, black tunic over his head and tossed it onto drier ground behind him, and kicked off his heavy boots. Then, ignoring the frigid temperature of the water, he waded into its depths until his feet could no longer touch the lakebed below. He swam further still, until Epona was simply a chestnut figurine on the lake shore. Only then did he stop and shift onto his back, floating along the surface of the waters, staring detachedly up at the slow-moving grey veil, letting the icy liquid utterly numb him.

Again, he lost track of the hours. Perhaps it was only minutes. Perhaps it was days. But when his very insides began to shiver, he knew it was about time he got out. He was halfway back to the banks when he looked up, and caught sight of a figure standing alone waiting for him.

Her black gown gave her away. He knew it well; she had worn it to her father's funeral, as well as her child's. The gown was in good condition, so little had it been used.

He reached the bank, and climbed out of the freezing lake. Water streaked from his hair down his face, and he blinked it away as he stepped up to her. She held his tunic tightly in her trembling fingers.

There were no words spoken. But this silence was different. It was amazing how many definitions a silence between them could hold. Link looked down at her with humble apology – she had been correct, he knew. He had filled their son's head with fancies of heroism and-

Tears welled in Zelda's eyes, and she looked down at the tunic in her hands, bowing her head. Without hesitation, he placed a hand under her jaw to lift her face. She searched his gaze imploringly, and he forgave her without saying a word. A hint of sad relief reached her eyes then, and he anticipated her next action before she did it. She leaned into him, and he readily wrapped his arms about her. She said nothing about the iciness of his skin, and he let her warmth wash over him like a blanket.

In that moment, he felt more peaceful than he had in days. And it wasn't just Zelda – it was like a comforting presence enveloped them, there on the banks of Lake Hylia, and his spirits lifted again. With Zelda nestled in his embrace, and the wind died down to a gentle breeze that wafted through the grass and through their hair, he somehow knew – he didn't know how he knew, but he did – that things wouldn't be like this for long. Wounds would heal over time.

Everything would be all right.

~-LoZ-~

All he could see was his brother's terrified face. Those blue eyes – the eyes that had always been so happy, so joyous, so trusting. They were staring up at him in horror as he gripped the small boy in his claws. And then the pillar collapsed.

Caine closed his eyes, but that only made the vision all the more vivid. He couldn't escape it; he couldn't forget what he had done.

He had killed his own brother. In cold blood. Intentionally.

His hands tingled. He felt hot blood oozing between his fingers, and his eyes flew open frantically, if only to be sure it was only his imagination. There they were, stainless – or, at least, in the physical sense of the word. But how stained they truly were…

_You aren't regretting all of this, are you?_

He shook his head, lowering his hands. No, he wasn't. He couldn't. Not only had everything gone so well up to now, but he was in too deep. There was no possible way anything could ever be the way it was.

_Then why are you wishing it could?_

He couldn't deny it. If he was honest to himself – which wasn't often – he knew that he missed his home, his room, his old life – even his parents.

Oh, his parents… No doubt they were grieving violently, mourning the loss of their son. Their supposed 'last son'. Rumors had reached his ears that many thought him dead; and now Abyll was dead as well. The male heirs to the throne were spent. Only little Erulissë remained. How he missed his sister. Her sweet, cherubic face, her rippling giggle, her shining eyes.

But it was all gone. He'd gone too far. There would be no return for him.

_Nor will there ever be. You belong here! This is where you and your talents are appreciated. Where you are recognized. Your home. There is no other place. That place was another time, another life – a dream. It's time to accept the real world. You are Caine White-eyes, son of Ameas Night, and heir to the draconic throne. Here will you stay._

He had heard this many times. And for once, it did nothing to lighten his mood. His mind continued to dwell on thoughts of his home, his family, and everything surrounding it. He found that he missed them dearly, and for the first time in a long time, his eyes began to burn. He stubbornly refused until they hurt; he would not allow himself such a blatant display of weakness.

Still, he felt a single tear graze the scales below his eye, and he hastily wiped it away, glancing to and fro to be sure none of the bats or other dragons were watching. Particularly Ameas. If the dragon king saw him crying, he would never hear the end of it.

The boy in him was begging to be released, begging to return home to his parents. But that little boy was all but dead. Just like Abyll. It was smothered by the cruel claws of a dragon – himself. He had stifled his own heart – he was killing himself.

Slowly but surely, he knew it to be true. His sanity waned with each passing day, and he was constantly losing his temper. When he did, it was as if a red veil fell over his eyes, and he was no longer in conscious control of his actions. A beast took over then, and reaped havoc on anything and anyone around him. And Caine was becoming weaker and weaker against it. He was losing the battle over his own mind.

And it was because of this that his brother was dead. He was blinded, blinded by hatred, and evil. With nothing more than maliciousness and contempt in his heart, he had slain that innocent little boy… Then again… he had slain plenty of innocents in the past weeks. But this was his own brother, Abyll, whom he had known since the boy's birth. He'd been five years old when his father had ushered him into the birthing room to see his mother cradling the pink-faced, cotton-haired newborn infant in her arms.

He'd felt such an anticipation then. He was going to be the best big brother ever, he had promised his parents. What a far cry from that he turned out to be…

His heart lurched. Suddenly, he couldn't see. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, growling at himself and the world that had suddenly become so dark and stained with blood. Why had he ever agreed to this? Why had he wanted it? When he fooled Abyll into touching the sword… He'd wanted to see him hurt. But this? Was this truly worth it? Heartless murder?

Too many questions! He couldn't answer any of them, and it was driving him mad! He extended his wings and took to the grey skies, flying hurriedly away from Tarha and toward the plains of Faron. He needed somewhere he could be alone, and think long and hard. The wind whipped at his face, driving the tears from his eyes even as he sought to escape them. He flew for miles – he didn't know exactly how far it was until his wings tired to the breaking point and he was forced to land. He fluttered to the ground, and collapsed in a pitiful heap of scales and tears.

His little brother… _His _little brother… Dead. Murdered by his own hands. The wickedness that had so much control over him rejoiced at that fact, but for the moment, he was letting that innocent young boy through. He needed – wanted – to mourn for Abyll.

Those sparkling blue eyes. Lively blue eyes. The ones everyone said were just like his father's. That cock-eyed grin… All gone.

They weren't supposed to be gone! Abyll was only eleven! He should have had an entire lifetime ahead of him. And now, because, all because of Caine, he couldn't. His life was over. Said and done. Nothing could change that now.

He wrapped his wings about himself and rocked back and forth. The self-stimulation did little to calm him, and it only served to make him feel even more childish. But at the moment, he didn't care. He was content to weep and comfort himself for the time being.

Poor Abyll… Poor Mother and Father! They believed that both of their sons were dead. Their beloved sons… _Beloved… _It had been a long time since he thought of himself as that. If they knew he had killed Abyll, he wouldn't be so 'beloved'. They would hate him, shun him, disown him, exile him… or worse… execute him. After all, it was the traditional punishment for a murderer, and it would be what he deserved. For all he had done as a dragon, he deserved death. And for a brief moment, he found himself wishing it would just take him now.

The cold northern wind rushed over him, making him shiver. Winter was on the prowl; any day now, it would strike, and strike hard. And with it, Ameas planned to strike as well. Keskus was crippled, and in the midst of their mourning for the young prince, they would be unsuspecting. The Great Hero would be too weak with grief to resist them, Master Sword or no.

Kicking a man when he was down. Attacking from behind. The coward's blow. Caine shuddered, both from cold and sudden disgust. He knew he could be killed for those thoughts. But he let them come anyway. The remains of his innocence balked and fought at the idea of attacking now, with the loss so raw as it was. But there was no reasoning with Ameas, not when victory was so near at hand.

For a long while he contemplated escaping, here, now, in the fields of Faron. He could get away, perhaps flee to Snowpeak and live out the rest of his days there. But what sort of existence was that? A wasted one, that's what. And he'd already wasted away enough of it.

There was nothing he could do. He'd already sold himself to the dragon, and he could only resign that he belonged fully to him now. Ameas owned him. Caine was just as bad as he was, if not worse. He finally fit in among them, criminals, fiends, and murderers, the lot of them. Heartless savages.

How disappointed his family, his loved ones would be in him now.

But there was no helping that. There was nothing left but to continue, continue in this merciless barrage of blood and death, and conquering. He would follow Ameas to whatever doom awaited them. After all, he wasn't good for anything else now. He was soiled, defiled, blackened like the fields roundabout Keskus, burned by the fires of revenge and hatred. And there was no cure, no healing, no salvation that could save him now.

There was no turning back.


	15. Chapter 14: Reinforced

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Reinforced**

"_The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower."~ Psalms 18:2_

Link was beginning to tire of staring at that map. His finger traced along the red border that signified the dragons' conquered borders. The entire southern border had fallen into their grasp, and the red shading stretched over Ordon, the Kokiri forests, the Lost Woods, and all the way up to Tarha and beyond, stopping barely a few miles from the Keskus walls. A new block of color had been added along the western coastline – they were extending their arms.

"I think they plan on closing in on all sides." Colin pointed to the red bulge to the east of Ordon. "They're spreading to the east as well."

Link nodded. "Yes… We don't have much time."

"But Link, what are we going to do?" Zelda laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Half our forces were depleted during the last battle. Our storehouses were reduced to rubble. We don't have the means, nor the numbers to risk a counterattack."

"And there's no way we'd withstand another attack on their part," added Colin. "The walls were demolished at several intervals. They'd pour through easily. Keskus is no longer as defensible as before."

"I know." Link trailed his fingers over the boxed star that represented the capitol city. "But… There is nothing else we can do. We must defend this city, and we will, walls or no. We have no other choice."

All three of them stiffened when a horn blast drifted in from outside. The wind carried it into the castle through the gaping holes left by Ameas Night's cruel claws, and the threesome turned in the direction of the sound – to the east. It rang out again, closer this time, and Link's brow furrowed.

"What horn is that…"

"It's no dragon's trumpeting, that's good enough for me!" Colin sprinted ahead, down the hall and out of sight. Link cast Zelda a bewildered glance, before both of them followed suit.

Outside, the sun was again hidden by a layer of cloud, and the air held a biting chill. Link made sure his wife had her thick cloak about her shoulders before they proceeded out of the castle gates. They took the shortest route to the eastern edge of the city, and found a crowd gathering at what was left of the gates.

An army marched on Keskus. But this was no hostile force, and it certainly was not made up of dragons. Hundreds of footmen – women, actually – tramped before two score cavalry riders. All wore loose clothing and heavy armor, along with thick coats and cloaks lined with furs. These were people not used to the cold of winter. A single woman led the host, most of her tanned skin covered by her knee-length coat, and only a few strands of ruddy hair peering from under her hood. The curved blade on her swordstaff reflected the silvery daylight.

"We heard you could use some help," said the Gerudo with a wry smile, spinning her staff and making the blade ring. "We'd like to oblige."

"Nabooru!" Neither Link nor Zelda could keep grins from spreading over their faces. Zelda rushed forth to embrace the Gerudo leader, whilst Link folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head in disbelief.

"If I weren't a married man, Nabooru, I could just about kiss you."

The Gerudo cocked a brow at him. "Well, you are, and you won't – I don't think your wife would be very happy with you then."

Zelda laughed, and Link couldn't help be glad to see her so happy. She looked like a joyous child, her face all alight.

"Come, come, all of you," said the queen, taking Nabooru's wrist in her hands. The smile never left her face. "You must be tired."

Nabooru threw her head back with a short laugh. "Zelda, you're talking to Gerudo. We live in a desert; we're durable folk. We don't get tired…" She trailed off with a yawn, clapping a hand over her mouth as she did.

Link gave her a wry grin. "Don't get tired, eh? Come on. We'll find a place where you and your soldiers can rest for the night."

"No, no. My troops can rest, but I'm here to 'elp you figure out how to beat this bad-breathed oversized lizard's behind back from whence he came!"

Link ordered some of his remaining soldiers to escort Nabooru's forces to the city square, where many of the citizens left homeless by the battle now stayed until repairs could be made to the damaged sections of the city. In the meantime, Nabooru herself followed Link, Zelda, and Colin back to the palace.

She whistled as they led her through the ruined halls. "Jings… They really did a number on this place, didn't they? May take ya awhile before it's up to snuff again…"

They filed into the Meeting Hall, back to the long table – or at least, the end of it that wasn't covered in rubble from the hole in the ceiling. Link again took his place at the head with a heavy sigh. Back to the drawing board… Staring at this piece of parchment that only served to mock them with the fact that the dragons now controlled half of Hyrule.

Nabooru pointed at the red space. "This is their advance?"

Link nodded, resting his palms against the smooth surface of the table. "Yes… They're concentrating their forces here, moving northward, while minor battalions are slowly expanding their gain to the east and west."

"They know their strategies; they're aimin' to surround you."

"We know."

"Have you tried counterattack?"

"Many times," Colin interjected. "They have a stronger force than we do. When one regime tires, they retreat and send in another, fresher one. We just don't have that kind of replenishable forces, especially after the attack here. Half our army was wiped out in that battle alone."

The Gerudo woman scoffed. "Ha, but you know, battles aren't won with numbers. They're won by smarts. If you want to defeat your enemy, you must think like them. Now," she turned back to the map, "they've already employed two tactics that you could do easily – if I'm correct, they used Ordon as a diversion to take Hyvä Vene, _and _they've attacked your central city." She pointed to Keskus.

"All you have to do, is use their own tactics against them." Nabooru then jabbed a finger at a quarter-sized blotch in the middle of the Great Sea. "Dragon Island Prison. Their headquarters. And they're weak spot."

His brow furrowing, Link studied where she was pointing. "How so?"

"Think about it. These creatures think they have you cornered. But if you send an army, say, here – Tarha, the closest city to you – while sending a stealth force to the island, you not only have the diversion you want, but you go straight to the heart of it." She glance to Colin. "And by the sounds of it, they've emptied their reserve, so to speak. All of their armies are mobilized. Which means…"

"No one is guarding the island," Zelda finished, her eyes alight with understanding.

"Exactly! So, when you reach the island, you can practically do whatever you wanted to it! You could even set off the volcano – utterly destroy it!"

"What do you think, Link?" asked Colin.

Link didn't respond right away. He scanned the map, running over Nabooru's plan in his mind's eye. From Keskus to Tarha to the island prison… "…It might be possible."

"Might be?" Nabooru laughed at him. "It's a bit more than 'might be'. This could put you back on the board!"

~-LoZ-~

The night was cool. No, that was an understatement. Link worked his fingers to try and keep them from numbing completely. Even under his leather gloves, they felt chilled and icy. He could see his breath, silvery in the moonlight against the black skies. He cast one last glance to the army that marched in the distance to the southwest, toward Tarha – he could barely see Nabooru's form at the head as she led them.

Colin placed a hand on his shoulder. Link turned to him, and returned a small smile before leading his band into the dark of southern Hyrule field. Like phantoms, they slipped from the limits of Keskus directly south. They didn't dare use horses, not on a mission like this. Horses would be much too loud. And they needed all elements of stealth now.

Single file, they crossed the plain, barely swaying the grass or leaving any more than one trail of footprints – a method derived from the wild wolf packs, and their way of traveling that made it seem as if only one wolf had made the tracks. The wind tugged at Link's heavy cloak, biting at his face. To ward off the cold, he pulled the cloth of the collar over his face – normally, it was used simply to hide one's face from others, but it would serve well to keep him warm as well. Sheikah clothing wasn't exactly the warmest, but it was the best when you didn't want to be seen. They'd merely added a coat; Link had been willing to make an exception for the loose trousers and thin boots, but the sleeveless tunics were simply too light.

Their steps made no sound as they made their way ever so slowly. Even with a company of two score soldiers dressed in Sheikah garb, only the wind could be heard howling over the knee-high grass. The prairie foliage bent and waved like swells on the high seas.

For days they traveled so, doing most of their moving at night, when the eyes of neither friend nor foe could catch sight of them. They passed Ordon in two days time, giving the draconic base a wide berth in order to get by without being seen.

Then they came to Satama. The southern-most port city, where most of the royal fleet was docked. Link could only hope the harbor had not been damaged.

The normally lively city was all too silent as they crept through the darkened alleyways. Corpses of long dead soldiers lay rotting in the streets, and the stench was enough to make them all sick. By they time they reached the heart of the city, Link wasn't the only one with the mask over his face.

Raucous laughter echoed over the rooftops, and they spotted a trio of dragons perched on the statue at the center of the city square. They must have gotten into the storerooms of a local tavern; Link barely contained a snort as one swooned deeply and flopped off its roost. Its companions laughed all the harder in their drunken stupor.

"I'm starved," bellowed one, scratching its head lazily. Its yellow eyes glinted dully in the light of the torches about the square. "I shoulda eated that li'le bat-thing 'afore it left…"

"Boss wouldn't like that, now, would 'e?" said another, with a great horn on its snout. "They're like 'is little pets, eh."

"Wha' about what it said?" slurred the one now on the ground at the base of the statue. It sat up groggily and rubbed its head. "Err… Those 'phantoms' that's been crossin' the fields…"

"There ain't no phantoms, or someone woulda seen 'em," snapped the horned one. " 'Sides," it hiccupped, "ghosts and ghouls 're nothing more'n fairytales to scare nestlings."

"Right, so, boss believes in fairytales, now?" Yellow Eyes seemed to be the soberest of the three, its voice a tad clearer than the other two. "I don't fink so…"

"Ya don't fink at all, half the time, Targnat…" Horned and Woozy – the one of the ground – cackled.

Targnat blasted fire at the two and snorted. "Pitiful, 'at's what you are! They's said 'at these 'phantoms', they haven't gone t'rough any cities yet, an' so we have nothing to worry 'bout."

"Right, assuming then that these 'ere phantoms is real…" The other two burst into another fit of inebriated laughter, and the horned one toppled from its perch as well. All three continued to laugh without ceasing.

"Drunk as sailors, they are," whispered Colin, watching over Link's shoulder. "They've dropped their guard. No wonder it was so easy to get in!"

"Shhh…" Link put a finger to his lips, and back slowly away from the too-lit square. They'd take a darker path to the docks.

The closer they got to the water, the more drunken bellows and laughter they heard. The whole lot of them were completely, utterly, hopelessly intoxicated! It was sickening to even have to listen to. They made their way down the alleys and darkened streets as quick as was possible and soon, the harbor, and the Great Sea stretched out before them. The tethered ships had been untouched.

"Good," Link muttered, surveying the waterfront over the edge of his mask. "Now, find the _Hope's Ally_. She's the fastest ship in the fleet."

The pack spread out, scanning the docks until Colin called them all over with their special signal, the faux hoot of an owl. They regrouped at his position, and sure enough, he had found _Hope's Ally. _Silent and stealthy as spiders, they crawled onto the great galleon. They kept their steps light on the wooden deck as they hurried about, checking the rigging and supplies. When all was deemed well, they loosed the sails, deftly catching the winter wind and making for the southwest.

None pursued them. Link stood alongside Colin as the younger man gripped the spokes of the wheel firmly. The rest of the men made sure everything was in order before settling down about the decks for the sail to the dragons' island. The wind, Link noted, came from the north, in the perfect angle that pushed them straight on their course.

The Lord had a sense of humor.

Link patted Colin's shoulder before crossing the deck to the prow. He watched the water foam as the bow cut through it like a deft blade. In the silence, he thought of what exactly they would do upon reaching the island's shores. That had been a bit of the plan that he hadn't decided upon; he wasn't sure what exactly they could do, and he couldn't be until they saw Ameas' headquarters with their own eyes. No one knew what awaited them on that legendary prison.

There was something about the sea that drew a man, broke loose the chains that often accompanied life on the mainland, and threw salty air in his face. The wild scents, the cool breeze off the waters, the powerful roar of the water against the hull – it made one come alive, in a sense. There was no feeling like it.

Sinking down against the wooden planks of the deck, Link sprawled out on his back, clasping his hands behind his head as he stared up at the glittering stars. Those distant stars… So carefree, never dealing with the troubles of life… Why did he feel like he'd thought upon this before?

Slowly, his eyes began to drift shut. All of the sudden, he realized how tired he was. It had been perhaps weeks since the last time he'd gotten a decent sleep. The past few nights had been spent at the ready with the soldiers, sleeping oft on blankets on the ground, sword at his side and within easy reach.

Before his mind had any time to object, he was asleep… and he dreamed.

"_Dat! Daaaat!"_

_He recognizes the voice – very easily. It comes from just over the crest of the next hill. Amidst the many wildflowers, a small form waits at the top, the wild prairie wind whipping his hair about. _

"_Dat!" A young Caine smiles, and Link notes how long it has been since he last saw that smile. Ages, it seems. "You promised!"_

"_I know, I know; I'm coming." In the midst of his mind somewhere, he realizes that this is no mere dream, but a memory. A long-buried memory._

_He makes his way up the hill, to where his son waits. The ebony-haired boy bounces on his heels, a childish smile on his youthful face._

"_Dat…" The smile disappears. "Do you… You and Mum still love me… Right?"_

_Link frowns. "Of course! What on earth would make you think otherwise?"_

"_Well… Nix and Gidget teased me today… and they said that now that I have a little brother who looks like you, no one will love me anymore."_

_Link sinks into the meadow grass and beckons his son to do the same. The young prince sits cross-legged among the wildflowers, and shifts closer to his father. The king ruffled his hair._

"_Listen – don't pay any attention to Nix or Gidget. They don't know what they're talking about. We still love you as much as we ever have, if not more so. You're our son; we'll never stop loving you."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise."_

_Caine cocks his head. "Even if I did something… really bad?"_

"_Even if you did something really bad." Link pauses, giving his son a pointed look. "You didn't do something bad, did you?"_

_The boy giggles, and shakes his head. "No!"_

"_Good."_

_The two sit in companionable silence for a long while, ending up on their backs, pointing out ridiculous images in the clouds. They spend hours laughing, and making up stories to go with their funny creatures in the sky._

_But after a while, the clouds begin to grow, and thicken, and Link knows that the memory has shifted into a dream, in full control of his unconscious imagination. Thunder rolls, and lightning streaks through the sudden darkness. Rain begins to pour down, and Caine leaps to his feet._

_The figure of the prince grows rapidly. The hair lengthens, the shoulders broaden, and he stretches taller. The older, now drenched prince whirls about, drawing the sword that has appeared in a sheath on his belt. His blue eyes blaze with fury._

"_You promised me! You _promised_! And you lied…" The prince swings the sword wildly, and Link rolls backward out of his reach. Caine pursues him._

_Then the ground trembles, knocking both of them from their feet and sending them sprawling into the soaked grass. A great rumble echoes over the hills, and the ground between them begins to tear apart. Caine is caught on one side, and Link on the other. The crack widens faster, and faster, until it is a good several meters wide. Much too far for either of them to jump._

_Link sees the ground shift under Caine's feet, and his eyes widen. "Caine…"_

_The ledge gives way and falls down the crevice, taking Caine with it. The prince cries out, twisting in midair to grope for a hold. His fists find a thin root, and he clings to it for dear life._

"_Dat!" Suddenly, Caine is that little boy again, holding onto that root with white knuckles and tears streaking down his face. "Dat… Help! Please… I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't want to die!"_

_In an instant, Link is on his feet, at the very edge of the crevice. His gaze searches frantically for any possible way to get across the gorge; he catches sight of a faint red glow at the very bottom. Heat begins to radiate from far below._

"_Caine, just… hold on!" He kneels down and reaches out, as far as he could. His hand stretches toward his son. "Reach for me, Caine; come on!"_

_Caine's small hand slowly, carefully leaves its grip on the root, and extends toward him. "I… I-I can't reach!"_

"_Try, son, try!"_

"_I am…" His hand slips on the root, and he screams in fright, retracting his other hand and gripping it tightly. "Daddy!"_

_His pulse pounding in his ears, Link inches even closer, as close as he dares to the edge. "Please, Caine! Keep trying!"_

"_I can't! I'll fall…"_

"_Trust me!"_

_It seems to get the boy's attention, and after looking up at him again, Caine reaches out again. Link's heart leaps when their fingers barely brush together._

"_Just a little further now! Almost… there…"_

_The root snaps. Caine's scream fills his ears as the little boy falls…_

"Link!"

His eyes flew open, and he sat up with a jolt. He felt sweat rolling down his forehead, and his breath came in deep gasps.

Colin stared down at him with concerned eyes. "Are you all right? You were yelling."

Link's gaze darted about frantically, scanning over the deck, the rigging, the ropes, the sails… He was on the boat. The galleon, _Hope's Ally_. Not on the edge of a precipice watching his firstborn son plummet to his death… He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face and wiping away the sweat.

"I was… dreaming. I'm fine…" Link felt along his jaw and realized the mask had fallen from his face. He swallowed, and lifted it back into place. Colin held out a hand, which Link gratefully took and allowed the younger man to help him to his feet.

"You're sure?" Colin eyed him.

Link nodded, rolling his shoulders and swiveling his neck to work out the taught muscles. "Yes… We're here?"

He really didn't have to ask; the ship was no longer swaying, and the wind had died down considerably. He could hear the pound of the surf on the shore, and see the tropical trees swaying just beyond the prow. The sails had been dropped, and now hung loose in the slight breeze.

"We just arrived. The men are ready and assembled on the deck. We disembark at your orders."

Link surveyed the shore. White sands, a dense jungle, and the cliffs of a great, rocky crater looming high into the night sky. A breeze whispered through the foliage, calling him, daring him to leave the comfort of his ship and enter its dangerous embrace…

"Sire?"

He looked to Colin with an expression of determination.

"Are you ready for a hike, lieutenant?"

**A/N: **Not the best chapter, I know… But it's a filler, mostly. A leader-upper.


	16. Chapter 15: Triumph of Light

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Triumph of Light**

"_And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved."~ John 3:19-20_

"Sir… Do you see that?" Caine stared out over the charred remains of Hyrule Field, brows half-cocked and scaly lips tweaked in a bewildered grimace. Ameas lifted his great head from its resting place on the cobblestone of the square, and peered over the rooftops of Tarha.

Approaching over the crest of the northernmost hill, came what looked like an army. A force made up of footsoldiers, and lightly armored cavalry. They came in a cluster rather than the typical neat ranks, and scores of blades glinted in the dull moonlight. What was this? Did the king of Hyrule dare counterattack after that last humiliating defeat?

Ameas growled. "Dare they even…" He slowly rose to his feet, extending his vast wings above the city and giving them a few test flaps. Opening his jaws, he released a loud trumpeting sound, awakening the dragons that lay dozing about the city. "Arise! Arise! The king's forces approach from the north! Ready yourselves!"

Caine watched as dragon after dragon alighted on the roofs, wings spread and ready to attack. The entire village was crawling with the things; there was no way that these humans would survive.

"Rain fire upon them!" Ameas commanded.

The dragons at the edge of the city raised their heads and poured fire over what remained of the grass on the outskirts before taking to the skies. They circled over the approaching army like buzzards, and then began shooting balls of flame down among them.

Stripes of black zipped through the air at them, lighted by the firelight, and many of the dragons… fell?

"What?" Caine's brow lowered and his gaze darted about the field as dragon after dragon plummeted to the ground. "Are those… spears?"

"Hylians fight with spears?" Ameas studied the new battlefield with an intense gaze, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Not usually… Unless…"

"Unless what?"

Caine scrutinized the enemy force. From this distance it was hard to see, but they seemed to be wearing very heavy clothing, and they wielded their spears expertly. The pointed staffs flew with accuracy, and most of the dragons were pierced in the chest, or the underbelly. "Unless… They're Gerudo…"

Ameas looked at him in confusion. "Gerudo? …From the desert?"

He nodded, never removing his gaze from the battle. "Yes… My f… The Hylian king must have called for reinforcements."

"A cowardly move. It only goes to prove his weakness."

Something deep within him flamed, but he doused it quickly. Now was not the time to start feeling loyal in any way to King Link.

"Gather the other troops. Attack from the ground. I'll take care of the aerial attack."

Caine nodded, and with a flap of his fibery wings, he leapt into the air and circled over Tarha. "To the fronts!"

~-LoZ-~

Link had never seen such a massive tunnel entrance. It loomed above them like the gaping mouth of a colossal monster, bathed in shadow, with crags of stone as jagged teeth. He stared into its depths, its lightless depths – he couldn't see farther than a few feet down.

"This is it," mutter Colin, quiet with awe. He glanced at Link. "Lead the way, sir."

Link cast him a glance. He managed a wry grin. "Thank you, Colin; that's very kind of you."

Colin smiled and patted his shoulder. Without another word, he fell into place behind him, and Link turned back to the ink-like blackness that awaited them. After one last moment of hesitation, he stepped into the corridor.

Link immediately felt as if he'd stepped into a void, and a chill raced up his spine. The only evidence that he was still conscious was the solidity of the rocky floor under his feet. There was no wall to feel along; and in a place like this, there was no hope for a sense of direction. They could only wander about until they, by God's grace, found something.

It could have been hours that they wandered that abyss. Even after Link's eye stopped throbbing, he could not see any kind of light in the deep darkness. It felt like they'd gone for miles in silence – no other creature besides them stirred. If they were out there, they didn't know they were here.

Finally, hope! A light up ahead! Link's pace quickened, and the glow came closer, and closer…

He stopped just before he dropped off a sheer cliff. Flailing for his balance, he instantly started sweating as a blast of blistering heat assaulted him. He staggered back, into Colin, nearly causing a domino effect that would have sent all of them toppling over. But thankfully, Colin steadied him, and they all peered down into the crag.

Magma bubbled far below, down the rocky crevice, and spires of flames shot up with great hisses. Link's dream return full force, and he suppressed a shudder.

"Well, this certainly wasn't the right way…" Colin muttered, squinting against the fierce heat of the place. Link stepped backward.

"All right," said he, "we'll head back, and find another tunnel.

After staring at the red glow of the lava, it took another long while for their eyes to dilate according to the blackness, and they wandered about the sunless pits for a good few more hours. By the time they caught sight of another light, Link was beginning to get sick of the blindness.

He rushed ahead once more, and paused at yet another cliff face. But this one didn't drop to a pool of lave. This one opened into a great cavern filled to the brink of…

"Treasure," breathed Colin, blue eyes wide.

"The dragons' hoard," Link added, scanning the glittering wealth that sprawled over the stone floor in mound after mound. Never before had he seen such plunder! Billions of rupees, and gold, and chests overflowing with jewelry of all kinds, and diamonds, and rubies, and all other sorts of precious stones and metals. All of it glittered in the light from a blazing chandelier that hung from the ceiling, and the cracks along the floor from which lava glowed red.

"We've hit the motherload," muttered some of the men, and Link cast them a harsh glance.

"We are _not _here for the riches, gentlemen. There are men and women laying down their lives as we speak. We're here to find the dragons' weakness."

"Well paint me green and call me a leprechaun…"

Link looked down to see Aveil climbing down the ridge, and striding across the piles of jewels. The Gerudo walked as if in a trance, her golden gaze trained straight ahead.

"Aveil?" Link called after her. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Would you look at that!" She gasped, and gestured further into the room. "Don't you know what that is?"

Link followed her gaze, and he caught sight of a grand pedestal, upon which sat one of the biggest gems he'd ever seen in his life. It had to be twice the size of the average man's head! It seemed to glow in the orange light, and its transparent face glittered alluringly. For a moment, Link could only stare at it. Those little twinkles… seemed like flirtatious winks. The stone was beckoning him, calling him. _Come touch me_, it said. _And feel my power._

Something red flashed in front of him, and Aveil was suddenly staring quite sternly into his eyes. "Link!"

He ducked under her hand.

"Aveil! What-"

"Don't stare at it so long!" she growled. "That thing is nothing but evil, i'tis. And it'll try to lure you in."

Link frowned, glancing one last time at the lovely stone. "You know what it is?"

"Aye. That's a dragon stone – deadly powerful, and lethal in the wrong hands." Then she grinned and giggled giddily. "I'm thinkin' this Ameas fella ain't who he says he is!"

"How so?"

She tugged on his arm. "Come on!" Then she beckoned the others, and all of them clambered down into the treasure pit. Aveil led Link toward the glimmering gem on the pedestal. She gave him a good shove toward it.

"Without starin' at it, go, and crush it."

He whirled around. "_What? _Aveil, what on earth are you getting at?"

"Just do it! I guarantee it'll be worth it."

"Guarantee?" He eyed her. "How can you promise that?"

"Because I know, that's how." She folded her arms over her chest, leaning back casually and gesturing toward the stone. "Just do it."

He glanced at it again. "All right… Just tell me why first."

With a childish expression of frustration, she sagged her shoulders and gave an exaggerated sigh. "All right, fine. Like I said, a dragon stone is very powerful. Now, why would this Ameas fella have one on a nice, shiny pedestal, in the heart of his headquarters unless it was somethin' important?"

The gem attracted Link's gaze once more, and he studied it, only looking away when he felt the dark pull once more. "What does destroying it do?"

She gave him a wry look. "Come on! How else 'ill you find out if ya don't do it?"

He furrowed his brow, and turned toward the stone. It glinted so beautifully, there up on its pedestal, looking flawless in the light…

_Lord, give me strength… _He took a deep breath, and approached it, drawing the Master Sword from its sheath on his back. The shine of the blade distracted him from the gem, and he relaxed a bit.

His approach stopped when he stood a few feet from it. Carefully, trying to remain detached, he looked up at it. It glittered again, winking at him, and it seemed to whisper – _Touch me… _He gritted his teeth, lifted the Master Sword high, and with a harsh cry brought it down in a ringing arc over the jewel. The stone shattered like glass, and the sound reverberated over the caverns.

Aveil jerked her fist. "Yes!"

~-LoZ-~

Caine flew over the army, blasting Gerudo with flames, and scooping up Hylian soldiers in his claws to drop them from dizzying heights. All of this, he did mechanically – it had become routine by now, all this heartless killing. He felt nothing as he heard the screams of the women that burned alive, or the men as they plunged to their deaths…

Pain. Like a wall, he ran into it, and it overtook him, squeezing his chest and pressuring his very bones. He screamed, and clutched at his head with his claws, swooning in his flight wildly like a drunken sailor. He tried to steady himself, but his wings were weakening – they faltered, and didn't seem to be receiving the orders his brain was sending them… Another wave of sheer pain, and he shrieked. What had hit him? He searched his body, and found nothing. Then what…

"Gah!" He sunk lower, and his vision began to blur. Through the haze, he caught sight of Ameas. The great dragon was writhing violently over the battlefield, roaring in agony and clutching at himself. His wings, flapping irregularly, served him no purpose, and he plummeted into the battlefield. Soldiers ran for cover, but many were crushed under the dragon king's weight. What looked like phantoms of black began to float up from the black beast's body.

Stars swirled in Caine's vision. He couldn't see where he was going, but he knew he was still in the air. Black mist filled his vision, and he felt his wings stop – they just halted, no longer held him aloft. And he began to fall.

Then all was black.

~-LoZ-~

Nabooru pushed herself off the blood-stained ground, whirling to stare at the body of the great black dragon. It writhed and twisted like a dying snake, belly up, as wisps of black something began to waft from its scales. It roared in agony, and then was quite suddenly still – it moved no more. The wisps turned into clouds. Layer upon layer of black inky smoke peeled off its body, until the giant form was completely shrouded by the strange mist. The battle seemed to come to a halt as all stopped to watch the dragon king.

The Gerudo heard another shriek, and turned in the right direction. Another, much smaller black dragon was fluttering about the sky like a scrap of paper, whipped by the wind, its scales glinting dully in the pre-dawn light. Black smog surrounded it as well, but cleared away much quicker. Hovering in that small black dragon's place sat a slender black-haired boy!

"What in the name of…" Her eyes widened as she realized what these effects were. Good golly, this army had a dragon stone! And by the looks of it, it had been destroyed! She pumped her fist into the air. "Way to go, Link!"

The boy began to plummet. For a brief moment, Nabooru frowned, and wondered how on earth he was going to survive the fall. But, as she should have expected, one of the many dragon troops – the stupid ones; these were the real ones – swooped in and caught him just before he hit the ground.

She snapped her gaze back to where the big one had been. The black mist was dissipating leaving behind…

The small – well, small compared to what he had been as a dragon, anyway – form of a man appeared amidst the black tendrils, lying still on the battle-bloodied earth. The sudden absence of all that mass of flesh and scales also revealed the many soldiers he had crushed in falling to the ground just moments before. Many good Gerudos and Hylians, brave and bold… She bowed her head for a brief moment.

The dragons that still buzzed in the skies like giant hummingbirds sent up a chorus of shrieks, and they began scrambling about. One scooped the strange man off the ground, and the draconic forces lifted away from the battlefield, followed by hundreds of little black specks that came up from the nearby city. They were panicking! Nabooru couldn't suppress a wry grin.

"Yes, you better run, you wee cowards! Now that your fiendish master has shown his true form! Ha!" She watched as none looked back, and they lifted off the ground like reversed rain and flew for the south, as fast as their wings could carry them. She lost sight of the two what-looked-like-Hylian leaders – both black dragons had previously led the assault on their army.

"We are victorious!" shouted one of the Hylian soldiers, and the forces of light shouted in triumph. They shook their weapons at the fleeing dragons, and many jumped for joy.

"_Praise God from whom all blessings flow," _someone sang out.

"_Praise Him all people here below." _Many joined in, lifted their voices in loud praise.

"_Praise Him above, ye heavenly host._

_Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen…"_

The song dissipated to more shouts of victory. Nabooru leant back for the moment; she knew that in a few minutes, the mood would not be so light, not as they scrounged the battlefield for the dead and wounded, but these people – particularly the Hylians – needed this moment to briefly celebrate their feat.

She frowned as a Hylian man broke through the crowd, and came stumbling toward her. Sweat trickled down his pale face, and by his wide eyes, one would have thought he'd seen a ghost.

"C-Commander Nabooru…" he panted, giving her a shaky salute. She returned it easily, looking at him with concern.

"At ease… What's wrong, soldier?"

The man glanced back from whence he came before taking a deep breath and staring after the draconic forces. "Did you see the boy?"

"From a distance…" She frowned, confused as to where this was going. "Why?"

"He… At least I-I think he… I mean, I thought I saw…" He shook his head at himself, swallowing his stutters before continuing. "What I mean is… I saw his face – as he fell. And I recognized it."

She cocked a brow, silently prompting him to go on.

"A-And…" He looked rather confused himself, his rough brow furrowing. "I think… it was Prince Caine."

~-LoZ-~

Link stared in awe at the brightening skies as hundreds – if not thousands – of dragons flew southward at incredible speed. They were running from something, that was for sure. And he couldn't help but notice the absence of the great Ameas Night. Perhaps… he had been slain?

Colin grinned as he stood beside him, and the men on the deck gave a brief cheer. Even Link himself couldn't keep down a smile. A victory after so many defeats truly was a feeling to be relished.

"Do you think it had something to do with that stone you crushed?" asked the Ordonian, casting Link a glance. He looked to Colin, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know… It isn't like they'll tell us."

Aveil laughed from the lower deck. "Well, ya never know. Maybe someday you'll meet a dragon, and get to interrogate him. Then you can learn all about what happened at the Retaking of Tarha!" She threw her fists into the air, emphasizing the last phrase, and the others joined her in her shout of triumph. Link smiled.

It was truly a miracle, one that he thanked God unceasingly for. Had they been defeated, he did not know if his soldiers would have had the hope to try again. They had been discouraged as it was, and to go home conquered once more… He shook his head; it might have broken them.

But thank the Lord for His grace. They had won today. Dawn had come, and was slowly chasing away the darkness.

He stared at the sliver of sun that decorated the horizon. It showered the skies with hues of gold and pink and orange, making the wispy clouds glow and drowning out the steady twinkling of the stars. He let its warmth splash over him, and inhaled a deep breath of the ocean air. The ever-growing ball of light reflected its beauty on the waves; one rose up, while the other eased downward. Yes; dawn was such a beautiful sight.


	17. Chapter 16: Remembrance

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Remembrance**

"_Thus saith the LORD; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD" ~ Jeremiah 17:5_

The whirlwind of images, faces, scenes made his head spin. He felt hot – sweat trickled down his forehead, and neck. His hair was damp; someone was muttering. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Why… couldn't he seem to move? All he could do was move his head; he couldn't even open his eyes!

Not that he wanted to… The unconsciousness was far too comfortable. Or at least, it would have been, if it hadn't been for _that _face… Long red locks, sparkling green eyes… a brilliant smile framed by perfect lips soft and red as a rose. Who was she? She smiled at him… always. At least, until she disappeared. He searched and searched to find her again. It took what felt like days of digging and scrounging through old forgotten memories and past acquaintances to find her again. When he did, he was allowed rest. He could stare at the misty memory of her face for hours… That everlasting smile was calming, soothing…

Something jarred him. An emotion, one far too familiar. Pride, arrogance, betrayal, and disgust. Yes… She'd sent that letter hadn't she? That wretched, wretched letter… The one that nearly ruined his life. Thank heaven she'd promised never to tell another living soul… That might've cost him his reputation.

"_You may recall that night… Though, I'm sure you'd rather not._

_I'm having a baby, Thalion. Your baby."_

A shudder wracked his inert frame, and pain shot up his spine. Harsh whisperings reached his ears, muffled and quiet, but he couldn't understand a word they said. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure he wanted to. He had no inkling of where he was, and whoever was speaking had gruff, throaty voices – certainly not ones he recognized. Though… they did sound… vaguely familiar.

After that… What happened after that? After that letter… He hadn't gone back, had he? No…

He'd just been through a battle. He knew that. But… the memories. All of them were written from high above… as if he'd stared down at the action taking place. Why was that…

_Ameas Night._

What? What on earth was that? He knew no Ameas Night… yet the name seemed very, very familiar to him. He wracked his unconscious brain – not a smart move. One, it elicited a throbbing headache; two, it didn't work anyhow.

Ooh… Why was the dream world so hard to live in? Yet he was captive to it. He had no escape.

So he had to be content letting foreign memories play out in his head. Memories of battles, treasure, vengeance, an ebony-haired boy, and a stubborn yet particular Hylian king…

~-LoZ-~

Caine sat up, heart pounding, in a heavy sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, as did his light shirt to his back. He swooned, gripping the furs underneath him fervently to keep himself upright. The yellow dragon across the small-ish room jumped, its eyes fluttering open and blinking slowly – he must have jolted it from its sleep.

It warbled, slowly shifting to its feet and approaching the cot. Caine looked about at the round room – more like a pocket, really. Perhaps where lava had gathered once. The floor, compared to the great cavern, was bare of jewels and treasures, and merely had another cot on the other side, covered in the same kind of furs as the ones Caine rested upon – thick, and course, like buffalo, he thought.

"Ha-hum, welcome back, young prince," hoarsed the dragon, sitting back on its haunches. It worked the sleep from its jaws. "A long nap you took, 'at was."

Caine frowned, rubbing a hand over his forehead – the sweat was growing cold and it made him shiver. "A… nap?"

The beast nodded, its eyes crinkling at the edges. "That was quite the fall you took."

It hit him then like a brick wall. He clutched a hand to his chest, feeling the ridge-less, very human skin beneath the cloth of his shirt. He studied his hands, wiggling his fingers and feeling his knuckles pop. Staring at his bare feet, he raked his fingers through his hair, feeling to be sure it was really there. "I… I-I'm a… Hylian again."

Nodding, the dragon scooted closer, blinking innocently at him. "Yes, yes, Hylian, you are. Big surprise for us."

He couldn't help wonder just how stupid these real dragons were – did they not feel any sore of betrayal, or sudden distrust, that one of their major leaders was one of their enemies?

"You feel well, now, sir?" asked the creature, leaning its head close enough for Caine to consider it a violation of personal space.

"Uh…" He nodded slowly. "Yes… Why?"

"Ameas doesn't feel so good; no, sir, he doesn't. Sick, sick, he is now; sweaty and sick. And muttering, and asleep."

Caine frowned. "Sick? Does anyone know why?" To hear that the very leader of the… Sweaty? Dragons didn't sweat! …Did they?

"No, no one knows why. We fought* maybe Hylians were just weak was all."

_Hylians… _"W-wait… Say that again?"

"We fought maybe Hylians were weak; you seem to sleep lots at a time, too…"

"Hylians?" He felt the color begin to drain from his face in disbelief. "Ameas is no Hylian!"

The beast cocked its head, looking rather befuddled. "Hm… Well, 'e looks like one. Pale skin, yellow hair, pointy ears, two arms, two legs – you know, everything 'at comes with the territory of bein' a Hylian. Or at least… I fink it'would be…"

He paid no more attention to it as it went on muttering as if he were still listening. Ameas was a Hylian? The thought was too mindboggling to register, and it took a long while for it to sink in. Ameas was a Hylian… Ameas was a Hylian! _Ameas Night was a Hylian!_

He recalled just before the darkness had overtaken him. The great black dragon writhing and roaring in agony just over the battlefield… Just as he had been. That pain… What had caused it?

"I… W-What happened?" he asked the dragon, suddenly feeling very tired. All these abrupt uncertainties were beginning to make his head hurt. "At the battle… Do you know?"

"The battle… Oh, that battle! Yes – someone destroyed the dragon stone whiles we were gone!"

His eyes widened, jaw slackening. "But… But, h-how? Why?"

"Well, the why's obvious enough," the dragon snorted. "How, well, it looks 'ike they crushed it."

"No, I mean, how could they have known we had it?"

"Oh…" The beast shrugged. "I dunno; prolly just… found out, I 'spect."

"Found…" He bit his tongue; now was not the time to be snapping! He was irritable, granted, but it had nothing to do with the dragon stone. Well… at least, he didn't think it did… A sigh escaped his lips. "May I… see him?"

It blinked at him. "I s'pose… But he won't see you; 'e's still dead to the world, at the moment."

"I know… I don't need to speak with him; I just want to see him, is all." _I need to get a look at him. If this isn't the real dragon-blood Ameas Night… then who is he?_

"Right, then. 'Course! If ya feelin' well enough to walk, jus' get up an' follow me." It stood to its feet, folding its wings lower on its back, turned and slipped into the dark corrider just out the doorway. No doors; if this was an old prison, had the prisoners gotten any privacy at all?

He found his boots beside the bed and pulled them on. His toes crowded against the leather walls of the shoes; he was quickly outgrowing them. Or, at least, his feet were. How long until they were utterly too small for him…

Foolish thoughts. At least, he tried to convince himself as such. The voice of pride, arrogance, and wickedness seemed to have fled him, leaving him feeling empty, vacant, and lonely. Alone; he shivered, but not from cold. The dragon waited for him outside, and when he exited the room, it began to lead him down a much smaller hall that he'd never seen before. Doorways like the one he'd just crossed lined the walls, and inside laid a room much the same as his – plain and simple, two cots, one bureau, and a torch, many of which were unlit. This must have been what was once the actual prison part of the island. It was depressing enough…

At the very end of the hall, the dragon stopped, and stood outside a curtained doorway. "Here 'tis."

Caine cocked a brow at it. The only curtained doorway out of all of them… Had they only recently done that, just for Ameas?

He pushed through the tattered rag, and into the dimly lit room on the other side. While warm light splashed about the rounded walls, the atmosphere was surprisingly cold, and he wrapped his arms around himself to keep from trembling. Only one bed sat in this room, and its occupant lay still as if death had already taken it. The only sign that this man was alive was the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and the occasional twitching of his lips as he muttered things Caine couldn't understand.

The prince slowly approached the bedside, brow furrowed as he strained to peer through the heavy shadows. Suddenly, the bedridden man jerked, back arcing up as he let out a yell – amazingly enough, it didn't seem as if the man was in pain. The cry was more one of anger, and frustration, then agony. Caine flinched back.

When he settled again, he muttered something, and swiveled his head so the light illuminated the face. At that moment, Caine felt his blood run cold. He took a single step of disbelief away from the cot.

This man looked near identical to Caine's father! Older, broader at the shoulders, taller, and with longer hair and a thin, sophisticated mustache, but… The face was the same. And yet… it was very different. This stranger's features carried a noble, regal air about them, even in his unconsciousness. While the straightness of the nose, the dark lashes, and chiseled jaw matched Link almost exactly, they reflected something Caine would never detect in his father's expression – pride. Loads of it.

This Ameas Night, whoever he really was, had known power his entire life. That much was obvious simply by the default expression, not to mention the rather wrinkled, yet rich-looking clothes – a draping, soiled cloak of red velvet, golden buttons, and tunics and robes patterned with intricate threadwork.

The frown remained on Caine's brow as he scrutinized the unconscious figure before him. This was a new twist to things – what could it possibly mean? He couldn't even begin to guess; there were too many questions unanswered to even try.

*'_Fought', not as in fight/fought, but the word 'thought' with the initial 'th' pronounced as 'f' - according to the true dragons' lower-class English. _

~-LoZ-~

Snow was coming. That much was clear by the dull grey clouds that blanketed the skies, and the harsh chill to the once friendly winds. The Gerudo and Hylian forces worked with as much speed as they could manage to rebuild the fallen city of Keskus, so that the families that had lost their homes or relatives might have a warm shelter when the first snows hit.

Link had helped as much as he could, but he also had other things to concern himself over, now. In all the commotion, he hadn't had much time to actually come down to it and talk with Zelda about everything that had transpired. When he finally had, it had been a rather emotional time, particularly for Zelda, the reason for which she told him soon after. As it happened, she was, in fact, with child, something she had been suspecting since the takeover of Ordon.

All the more reason to repair the walls and palace before winter came in full force, or before the dragons fully regrouped and attacked again with vengeance.

On that note, the dragons had been amazingly silent for the past few weeks. Though they still occupied the coastal cities, the inland was all but vacated of them. Tarha, as well as many other inner cities, was on its way to recovery. What had caused the enemy to pull back so, he didn't know. But he was thankful for it all the same; now, they had time to recuperate.

There was still much to be done. Temporary roofs had been put up in the holes that Ameas had torn in the ceiling of the palace as well, if only to keep any coming snow out. Link now watched as the last one was nailed into place, sealing the cavernous hole above the main hall. The same hall where Abyll had died…

He shuddered. Best not to dwell on such things. The workers began to dissipate, calling to one another about resting for the remainder of the evening. Link bid them all farewell before heading upstairs, to the royal chambers. They had been one of the few places left untouched, and were possibly the warmest areas of the castle.

When he arrived at his and Zelda's room, he pushed open the door to find it surprisingly cold. The fire had all but died; dying embers glowed at the bottom, but nothing more. A frown twisted his features, and he searched the suite for his wife. He didn't find her.

_Perhaps one of the other rooms? _He'd often found her sitting in Abyll's room, which hadn't been emptied – he didn't think Zelda would ever let it. They'd keep it the same, for always, if only in memory of their beloved son. She would sit on the boy's bed, either holding the pillow, or working the blanket in her fingers – Abyll's scent still lingered on his things. The queen was probably there now.

But when he looked, he found Abyll's room vacant as well. _Then where… _He checked Caine's room.

There she was – sitting on the elder prince's bed, caressing the cover of one of the many books that inhabited the room. She wore a forlorn expression as she absently flipped the pages open in her lap, her eyes unmoving and therefore paying no mind to the actual words that covered the paper.

She didn't initially react when he joined her on the bed. He put an arm about her waist and waited for her to speak – if she chose not to, then they would sit in thoughtful silence.

But she did speak; and when she did, she sounded lost, and lonely.

"Where did he go, Link?" She blinked rapidly as she stared down at the pages, shaking her head. "It's enough that Abyll's… gone. But… knowing Caine's gone and not knowing why is even worse…"

She swallowed hard, and he anticipated her tears, wrapping his arms about her tightly as she cried into his shoulder.

"I want my son back, Link…" she whimpered into the cloth of his shirt, burying her face against it. "Please, God," her mutterings shifted into a prayer, "I just want my son back…"

~-LoZ-~

How long had he occupied this sunless void? Left to wallow in the depths of his bleak unconsciousness, floating in the abyss, knowing nothing but emptiness? It seemed to him like ages. Ages of nothingness, and loneliness, and struggling to make sense of the seemingly random bits of information and memory that plagued him to no end, baffling him with names and faces and occurrences and locations the held no meaning to him.

That is, except for that lovely woman, and the hardened face of that Hylian king. Something in his subconscious tied those two together – was it something in their features? There were certain similarities, but those extended no further than fair skin tone, and glittering eyes. The woman's expression was always sweet, and kind – the king's was far more harsh, and determined, or in one case, furious.

So today, he'd resolved to figure out the connection, despite the pounding headache it served to bring him every time he thought hard about those elusive memories. He would endure the pain, if only to ebb at the frustration of not being able to remember.

He sifted those two mental images – the woman, and the king – to the forefront of his consciousness, and delved into the rest. He searched and searched, sought and sought, dug and dug, deeper and deeper into a jumbled, tangled mess of memories. Scenes of someone's life, one that he vaguely recognized, but not as his own – or so he thought.

Major memories went the quickest; meaningless celebrations, nights of pleasure, joyous victories, friends, acquaintances, countless women…

At the very back of his mind, an image surfaced – looking through the eyes of whomever these memories belonged to, and into the reflective surface of a mirror. A lavish room sprawled in the background, and he took in the rich clothing of the figure before turning to the face.

His heart gave a painful jump. He looked into the face of… the Hylian? No, no, this was a different man… but very similar. Where had he seen this man before? Besides the…

It was him.

Him, himself; this person was him! The images, the memories surrounded him; his head pounded and throbbed like a drum, his blood rushing through his temples with each heartbeat. Like a wave crashing over him, the recollections swallowed him whole, and a spray of light exploded in the darkness. The memories came to life, each and every one of them playing at rapid fire speed, with him in the midst of them.

And he remembered.

He was Thalion Vonernil Faroth. The woman was Lalaith Wilwarin, a flame whom he had not seen, nor thought of for years – this was understandable, now, considering his loss of his memory as a Hylian just after…

The incident with the dragon!

_He wandered through the dark caverns – how befitting for a prison, he thought. Cold stone tunnels, a lightless world, any and all prisoners doomed to either brave the savage jungles on the shores, or live out the rest of his sentence in the sunless abyss under the mountain._

_Or, in his case, the rest of his life. After all, there was no other punishment for treachery. One could not attempt to start a revolt against the king of Hyrule and get away with it after failing._

_Though, he couldn't understand why the fool had been so harsh with him – he was, after all, the wisest, on most occasions, the strongest, and the most charismatic out of all those old gaffers on the Council – his young age did not matter! He was inexpendable, and popular; or so he thought. He had expected the people to object at his trial; after all, he was the one who advocated most of the improvements in the land – the abolishing of the feudal system, the betterment of the roadways, the upgrade of the Hylian fleet, the limiting of soldiers and war-related structures in towns during times of peace. He was the peoples' sponsor; they couldn't just let him go like this! And the king – his own flesh and blood! It was intolerable!_

_But they had. And it made him furious._

_What, ho? A light ahead? Perhaps there was life in these dank, dark tunnels after all. He quickened his pace, eyes used to the inky black by now, and came to a stop at the edge of a drop-off. On the rock floor below, vast mounds of treasure stretched for the length of the room, glittering in the hot orange light. His eyes widened, but did so even more when they found the great, black form of a mighty dragon sitting back on its haunches, dismissing the company of a small, bat-like thing._

_By Faron, what… What was this? Dragons hadn't been seen, nor heard of since…_

"_The fall of Ameas Night," he whispered to himself. Was this that infamous dragon king that the elders of Hyrule spoke so little of? The one exiled for the very same crime as the one he himself had committed?_

_What an alliance they could make… But it was fruitless to think such things; most likely, the dragon would see him as no more than an easy meal, and then he'd be done for. Perhaps… Perhaps, though, there was a way to usurp this underworld throne from him… He could use the power this beast seemed to possess. And if its followers could see what he was capable of with a blade, they would be forced to give him anything he wanted – including troops to help take back what was rightfully his._

_The throne of Hyrule, one of the most prosperous nations in the world._

_He watched as the dragon laid down, resting its head on the back of its hands. The great red orbs of its eyes closed, and all was still. Then, he crept down, and found the bejeweled hilt of a sword amidst the treasure._

_He slew the great Ameas Night in his sleep. And as the crimson lifeblood spilled over the glittering floor, a large pedestal caught his eye._

_A glorious jewel stood atop that great platform, and he was drawn to it like a moth to flame. Any man who owned this great room… could possible become the richest man on the earth. The most powerful man; the most influential man. No one would be able to tell them what to do… not even the so-called Law._

_He reached out and touched its smooth surface. Something like electricity shot up his arm and swirled about his head, throwing him away from the stone and sending him sprawling onto his back. Instantly, black blotches swirled, and darkness relieved the pain as unconsciousness took him. His memories began to fade, as new replaced them – memories of hate, vengeance, and the draconic revolution._

Of course! The stone! The stone that was destroyed! It had taken their life-forces, and joined them – Ameas Night in his dying breaths, and Thalion Faroth, deep in sleep. They had been combined, as was convenient, they being together in the same room. He was such an idiot! He should have had the knowledge to remember that Ameas' father was truly the one to lead the revolt, and he'd been forced to serve under that buffoon's wing until he finally died fifteen years previous. Only then could his plan have been enacted as it was… And now, the stone had been shattered, and its hold over him and young Prince Caine had been broken. He, and most likely the prince, were now back in their original forms.

Energy flooded his being, and he sat upright with a jolt and a yell of surprise. His blue eyes flew open, wide even in the sudden light of a fire pit along the wall of the small room.

His name was Thalion, and he'd just spent thirty-four years in the body of a notorious dragon king!


	18. Chapter 17: Traitorous Action

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**Traitorous Action**

"_Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." ~ John 15:13_

"Do not misunderstand me; I am grateful as any that the rebuilding process is going as well as it is, truly. But the draconic evacuation of the coastline seems far too hurried if you ask me. It makes me wary." Thoron scanned the rest of the council members. They sat in the library – a temporary Meeting Hall, as it were, until the palace was fully repaired. All about him were silent, saying nothing in objection, yet nothing in agreement either.

After a long moment of quiet, Rihst stood to take the floor. "I, for one, agree with the chancellor. It's too convenient! This is not a mere retreat; they're plotting something."

"And you have proof of these theories?" asked Link quietly. "Because we can't send the people into a panic over a hunch." His voice raised with his last words, emphasizing his point. His patience was never very durable with these men; he had enough stress on his shoulders as it was. He didn't need more. The council members glanced between one another guardedly.

"While that may be true," continued Rihst hesitantly, "we can't just do nothing, either. It's far too easy if we assume they've given up. Dragons are nothing if not stubborn creatures, and the last thing they'll stand for is surrender. They'll either achieve their goal, or die trying."

Underneath the stoic shell, the man in him shuddered at the thought – if that were true, then this war could last for months or even years to come. And with Hyrule struggling to stand as it was, he wasn't sure how much longer they would last. The dragons fought with a style foreign to most soldiers, and with their aerial advantage and fiery breath, it was nowhere near like fighting another human army. Not only that, but their numbers seemed to have increased sevenfold since the last time they were heard of, and even the Hylian army didn't have that kind of force.

But outwardly, Link kept a level head and a detached expression, though he couldn't help the slight furrowing of his brow. "And what, pray, do you suggest we do about it?"

Rihst didn't have an answer, and seemed to deflate under Link's intense gaze.

"Our armies have been cut in half," the king continued. "Scores have been left widowed and fatherless. Homes and cities have been destroyed. Our people are suffering, councilor. And if this short chance at respite is all we are going to get, then I say we use it well. Shelters are being rebuilt as we speak. The Gorons, thank God, have been a tremendous help in clearing away the rubble; Nabooru and her troops are keeping close eyes on the coastline, and will alert us if any dragons are sighted."

"But, Majesty," interjected Sigil, standing as Rihst took his seat again. "How will a messenger, whether on foot or horseback, outrun a draconic force if one does come?"

"They will not be able to simply bypass the coastal cities in one hoard. In order to get past our borders once again, they will have to do as they did before – city by city. And in doing so, they will give us time to meet them, and this time, we'll be ready for them. They won't have the element of surprise."

"And yet, you object to issuing an official warning to the people?" Thoron's words were sharp, at which Link turned his piercing eyes toward the older man.

"They have enough on their mind as it is," said he. "They don't need any more to concern themselves over. If an attack does come, however, our forces have evacuation plans set up, and we have just enough stationed in all the coastal cities for a select few to guide the people out of the cities and into the forests while the rest stay at the defenses."

Silence followed for the longest time as the council members pondered what he was saying. Zelda sat solemn beside him, and he took the moment to clasp her hand under the shadow of the table. Her expression remained the same, but as he entwined his fingers with hers, she gave them the slightest squeeze, and he kept a small grin from spreading over his face.

"Are there no other objections?" Link asked, scanning the ring of councilors with his blue gaze. Most of them either shifted uncomfortably, or returned the challenging stare steadily. None said a word.

He nodded. "Very well then, gentlemen, if you please – let us adjourn."

Without waiting for their consent, he stood, and helped his wife to her feet as well. They bid the councilors ado and, with Impa following closely behind, retreated from the library.

"Well… You handled that well," said the Sheikah with a hint of sarcasm.

Link cast a pointed look in her direction. "Was that supposed to be a congratulations, or a scold?"

"That would depend on how you take it."

"Well, I for one, can't stand those meetings – if you haven't figure that out by now, after fifteen years, well then I overestimated your insight."

Zelda laughed, and Impa simply cocked a wry smile, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well said. You've trained your tongue about as well as your sword arm."

"I learned from the best."

The Sheikah smirked before turning on her heel, walking slowly down the corridor and disappearing around the corner. Link silently thanked her; she had easily seen the ulterior motive for leaving the meeting so hurriedly. With a short sigh, he turned his attention to said basis of his intentions.

"Zelda, are you all right? You look pale…" His voice was laced with concern; stress could be disastrous for a woman in her state.

She offered him a small smile, the dark circles under her eyes narrowing with the expression, and she caressed his knuckles with her thumb. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

He eyed her incredulously, tilting his head in studying her. "You're sure? Perhaps you should lie down…" His gaze drifted to the barely-acknowledgeable bulge of her abdomen; protective determination swelled in his chest.

"Link, darling, I've been lying down so much the past few days, I feel restless at the very thought of it!" She smiled, a genuine smile, clasping his hand between hers. Her fingers seemed so small compared to his… "Don't worry so much; I'm all right, really."

He allowed the tension in his shoulders to ebb away, and a wry smile crossed his features. "I'm sorry… I can't help it."

~-LoZ-~

He had remembered. That had been the difficult part. Now he had figured, and the results, while far-fetched, made sense. The mathematics of it were not hard, and any other option he thought of was either too convenient or made absolutely no sense. There was only one plausible answer to the question that plagued Thalion's mind – why did the Hylian king look so similar to him? The solution was simple.

He was his son.

He had long ago tied it together in his mind. Approximately thirty-five years prior to now, he had received a letter from a flame of his, one he hadn't seen or spoken to in a few months at the time – Lalaith Wilwarin. In it had been the dreadful news that she was expecting a child, his child, and was keeping it.

He had burned that wretched letter, and erased all evidence that he had ever been involved with the peasant woman at all. Each time she tried to contact him, he got rid of her letters without even opening them. He no longer wanted to know how she was faring…

That was the end of it. Or, it was supposed to be. That wretched child of illegitimacy wasn't supposed to come back to haunt him three decades later! Particularly now! He was so close, so close to his goal…

But no matter. So the Hylian king was his son – what did he care? He did not know the man, nor did he wish to; nothing held him bound to this, a perfect stranger. The worm had something he wanted, and therefore, had to be terminated, and quickly. There was no way he would simply crawl into his little hole just because he'd lost his draconic form. He was still just as powerful as he ever had been. The dragons still pledged their loyalty to him; beyond fiery breath and great size, what had he lost?

"Sir?" came a youthful voice behind him, startling him from his reverie and causing him to whirl about. The young prince jumped, eyeing him warily. "You… You sent for me?"

Ah, yes. After all – what better way to cripple a father than to target his precious son?

"Yes, I did, Caine," said Thalion, voice sickeningly sweet. "I wish to speak with you."

The prince frowned the slightest, keeping his distance from the lord – Thalion could not tell if this was intentional or involuntary.

"I'm all ears, my liege." Caine gave a short bow before standing at attention.

Thalion smirked at the boy – this would truly be enjoyable. "Do you know what would be the best way to get the Hylian king to bend to our wishes?"

He knew he had caught the prince off guard just by the confused expression on his young face. He tilted his head, a lock of black hair falling in front of his intense blue eyes. "Uh… Is that a rhetorical question?"

"No," Thalion laughed. He tried to keep things extremely lax, though he knew his casual mood was setting the young royal off.

"Then… I suppose it would be using something dear to him against him."

"Exactly." The boy was smart; a pity it would all go to waste… "I've been pondering, and I believe I've come up with the perfect plot to bring the king of Hyrule to his knees. Are you willing to help me with it?"

The boy had no inkling of what he was getting into. "Of course, sire."

The wicked grin that had so insistently tugged at his lips finally emerged, and he sneered down at the prince. "Excellent. Guards!"

The two dragon troops that were stationed just outside Thalion's doors at all times rushed in, and the noble pointed a rigid finger at Caine. "Seize him!"

The prince's eyes were wide as orbs as the winged beasts clamped their claws about his wrists, gruffly taking hold of him and twisting his arms behind his back. He cried out in pain, and they shoved him to his knees. "W-what… Let go of me! Ah!" The boy clenched his jaw, grimacing as they jerked on his already strained arms.

Thalion grinned sadistically, staring down his nose as the struggling youth. "Bind him. Have him ready to depart by nightfall – as our prisoner."

"Ameas!" Caine did not struggle much against the dragons' hold; he couldn't, anyhow. One wrong move, and his arms would break.

Thalion's smirk disappeared, and turned into a scowl. "Do _not _call me that. Ameas is dead; my name is Thalion Vonernil Faroth – the rightful heir to the Hylian throne."

He followed as the dragons dragged him down to the bowels of the mountain, to the tunnels that stank of death and rotting flesh. In the cells there, skeletons and corpses of prisoners long since dead waited. For the pleasure of seeing the prince squirm, Thalion took the shackles off the wrists of one of those poor, unfortunate men, breaking its decaying arms at the elbows, and tossed the iron manacles to the dragons to bind Caine with. As he expected, the prince paled to a satisfying shade of green as they clamped the shackles at his wrists, and then he tossed another pair to the dragons for his ankles.

Once the young royal was well bound in chains, Thalion beckoned the dragons to follow him to a large chamber down the hall. Along the wall were the weapons of the guards the once kept watch over the prisoners. The supply of unique weapons had been added to over the decades by the raiding of ships, merchant or otherwise. The Hylian noble gripped the leather handle of his personal favorite – the cat o' nine tails.

He sneered as he slowly turned around, fingering one of the long, thin strips of leather between his fingers. Glancing up, his smirk broadened as he saw the whites of the prince's eyes grow larger. "Do you know what this is, highness?" said he, leisurely, as if he held no weapon in his hands. He gave the whip a test swing, and the _crack _made Caine jump. "This, ah this, is the cat – my personal favorite among our grand selection of unusual devices."

The prince said nothing, so Thalion continued.

"There isn't much that can compare with the feeling of a whip in one's hand – sometimes, I wonder if it surpasses even the exhilaration when one runs his enemy through with a blade. To feel their flesh split under the sheer force of the leather, to see the blood run from numerous wounds, to hear their cries of anguish… I personally think it a much better punishment than a simple sword; wouldn't you agree?"

Thalion tossed the whip to the dragon nearest him, and nodded at it. "Fifteen lashes – no more. We only need him half dead, for now…"

The noble left them to it, striding down the corridors back to his great treasure room. The halls were then filled with Prince Caine's screams as the snap of the whip echoed off the walls.

~-LoZ-~

They came so fast. It seemed that one moment, the snow-laden landscape glistened in peaceful, hopeful silence. Then… Screams. Flames. Death, blood. Carnage. Defeat. It all came driving down, blow after heartless blow. The already frail structures in the process of being rebuilt were crushed even lower. The walls were barraged under projectiles from catapults, hulking stones doused in oil and set ablaze. Men, women, and children alike were slaughtered. Utter chaos.

The draconic army was lead by a ruthless man in black armor. One whom the king of Hyrule had never seen. He fought with the agility of a panther, and his skill with his black blade rivaled even Link's.

This, he knew. For as he ducked under that lethal ebony sword yet again, he swore he saw a tuft of his blond hair disappear from his forehead. He raised the Master Sword to block the next stroke, and the sabers clashed in a shower of sparks and an ear-shattering _clang_. The black knight sneered, blue eyes narrowing, filled with venom, and gave the king a sharp push backward. Link stumbled, and quickly righted himself.

Just in time to see the point of the black sword plunging for his belly, ready to gut him. With a yelp of surprise, he leapt aside, and parried his opponent's blade with a downward stroke. But the black knight was too quick, and Link's sword hit open air, and his momentum made him stagger. Which was the perfect opportunity. The knight brought his sword up, hilt first, and slammed the pommel into the younger man's temple and sent him reeling. Stars swirled in his vision.

Cold steel swiped the side of his face, and he felt blood caress his cheek. His sword hand exploded in pain, and he nearly dropped the Master Sword – the fact that he didn't seemed to anger his foe, and he felt the wind of another deadly stroke. He didn't even feel himself duck.

The knight's fist suddenly flew from his side, and his sharp knuckles collided with Link's nose, snapping his head back. He felt no break, thank God, but instantly, blood began seeping down his face, and he staggered once more. Spitting blood, Link planted his feet, and steeled himself – he couldn't let this villain beyond the palace hall! Zelda had been adamant that she wasn't leaving – she was most likely watching now, as Link and his royal guards battle the opposing force of dragons and this mysterious black foe. If they were defeated…

With a great war cry, Link leapt at his opponent, sword ringing magnificently and glimmering in the winter light that streamed through the high windows. The black knight's eyes grew wide, and he barely dodged backward as the Master Sword rang against the stone floor. In a flash, it swung again, and glanced off the breastplate of black armor. Then, the point drove toward the fiend's chest.

"STOP!"

Link froze upon seeing the knight gesture backward, at a pair of weapon-less dragons standing between the splintered doors. They held a limp form between them, forearms clamped in their merciless claws. Blood covered his hands from chaffs from the iron manacles, as well as dripping from his crooked nose and swollen brow. His shirtless torso sported several diagonal welts over his thin chest, bleeding, and infected. His black hair hung disheveled and mangled in front of his blue eyes. Despite his mauled appearance, the figure was all too familiar.

"Caine…" The name wrenched itself from his throat in a hoarse whisper.

If Link had thought he had felt helpless… Caine was the word personified. There was no life in his stance. His limbs hung limp at his sides, weighted by those wretched iron chains. And his face… No emotion whatsoever. No hope, no hate, no bitterness… Only pain. And nothing but.

"Yes – you know this face?" The black knight chortled, swinging his sword casually and prodding Caine in the jaw with its point. The young prince grimaced the slightest. "One more move, and he dies right here, right now."

Link ground his teeth together until it hurt. When the knight whirled, pointing his black blade toward him, the king fixed him with an intense blue gaze. The felon didn't flinch; in fact, he returned the glare, and his azure eyes suddenly struck Link as familiar. Why? He couldn't say.

"I have you in a corner, I believe you know quite well," continued the knight, letting his arm fall in a leisurely swipe. "Your kingdom has been beaten down. Not destroyed, mind you – no, I have special plans with it. Starting with you." He settled his gaze on Link as he moseyed closer, blade never stilling, always fidgeting. "You have something I want."

"What more could you take?" Link scowled, fingers gripping the Master Sword's hilt so tightly, his knuckles popped. "You've taken the kingdom bit by bit until there was nothing left."

"Correct."

"You've murdered countless innocents, all across the country!"

"Two for two."

"And now you've taken our capitol city, our center of power."

The knight smirked. "Which puts you in quite the bind, doesn't it?"

"Villain! Don't you care that you've left hundreds of women without their husbands, or children without fathers, or parents altogether, in your wake? You've beat down innocents ruthlessly, shedding their blood and leaving their corpses to rot! People, good people, who did _nothing _to you!"

"Ah!" Link ducked as the knight swiped at his head. "That is where you would be wrong."

"Thalion!"

Both men turned to the hallway to the back of the great hall, where the Council looked to be attempting to sneak into the tunnels. Most were crouched in their stealth, and now froze like trapped rabbits. It was obvious who spoke – Thoron stood apart from the others, grizzled face twisted in a frown.

Thalion, whom Link guessed to be the black knight, sneered at the old chancellor. "Well, well, if it isn't Tinder Thoron – still alive, old friend? You were already ancient last we met; does that make you prehistoric?"

Thoron scowled, beard ruffling with the motion. "How dare you intrude on Hyrule's peace! You bring shame to your family name!"

"Oh, my family name was already shrouded in scandals and mystery; I figured I'd simply meet the standard."

"The people trusted you."

"A lesson learned to be careful in whom you place your trust. And whom you betray."

The chancellor growled in frustration. Personally, Link was glad for the distraction. It gave him time to analyze his foe's posture, poise, moves, in order to predict how and when he would attack. He had backed away as Thalion eased ever closer to the old man.

"You betrayed us!"

"Wrong!" Thalion's expression blazed with anger. "_You _fools betrayed me! The crown was rightfully mine, and I deserved it! You all knew that! But you gave it to dear Cousin Aran instead. Simply because he was of closer blood to the king. He was a fool, and no one but I could see it!"

"Aran lacked your temper, Thalion," Thoron said evenly. By now, the entire skirmish had come to a screeching halt, soldiers from both sides watching the tension unfold as the black knight drew steadily closer to the chancellor. "He was a just man of pure heart – something you needed desperately, particularly in your… social dealings."

"What I did in my private life was of no consequence to the inheritance of the throne! I had a right to it, more so than my cousin did – I had the siding of the people."

"And you think you still have it, Lord Faroth?" Thoron's harsh words stopped the knight cold. "Do you think that a people, whose friends and families you've murdered in cold-blooded vengeance, will support you now?"

Thalion gritted his teeth, sword twitching in his grasp. "I have the throne at my disposal! I do not need your approval, nor anyone else's any longer! I will take what is rightfully mine."

The knight whirled about, eyes fiery, and the black blade swooped down at Link. He stumbled backward at the suddenness of it, and nearly lost his footing. But Thalion leapt over him, darting to his dragons and jabbing the point of his sword at Caine's throat.

"No!" The word flew from Link's mouth before he could stop it. He realized he was on his feet, rigid and tense.

"Ah, but this foolish boy belongs to me," oozed Thalion with a sadistic grin. "He swore his loyalty to me when he joined my army. I have the right to do with him whatsoever I please. Therefore…" He pushed harder on the blade, and a line of blood streaked down the young prince's chest. "If I say his life is forfeit, then it is forfeit!"

"Take me in his stead," said Link, his voice even, though he had surprised himself in speaking so quickly. It came so easily, that offer. There had been no extra thought required.

Caine's eyes widened. "L… Dat…"

_Dat? …It's been years since he's called me that… _"Take me, Thalion. Let him go."

The knight's grin widened, and he slowly withdrew his sword. Without turning to his followers, he gestured down the hall. "Release the child."

With motions about as gentle as a bomb, the dragons jerked off the chains, and thrust Caine forward. The bleeding prince stumbled forward, and collapsed onto the marble floor. Link caught a glimpse of bleeding whip marks on his back and, with a scowl, approached him.

He felt the point of a blade at the back of his neck, and froze.

"Ah, ah, Majesty," said Thalion mockingly from behind him. Link didn't look back. "You're mine now. And we have a lot of work to do."

The black blade flashed once more. Pain exploded in Link's head, and he dropped forward to his knees as darkness botched his vision. Stars wheeled, and he felt himself fall forward.

Just as consciousness faded, he thought he heard Zelda's sweet voice… tainted with agony as she screamed his name.


	19. Chapter 18: Sacrifice

**A/N: **A big thank you to all who have reviewed! =) It always makes me happy to see that you're enjoying this story. I hope you enjoy the ending, which is fast approaching, as well. A big shout-out to TheTextingNeko, my most faithful reviewer. God bless you, girl, and God bless you all!

~ Penelope

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**Sacrifice**

"_For God so love the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." ~ John 3: 16-17_

The room swerved in a blurred haze. He felt himself falling, falling… His head collided with the inforgiving surface of the marble floor, and pain exploded across his skull. So quickly… it was over.

He heard the queen call for her husband – her voice was distant, echoing… Nothing was sure in that no-man's ground between awareness and sweet unconsciousness. Perhaps he wasn't hearing the queen screaming in grief; perhaps he wasn't here at all. When he opened his eyes again, it would all be nothing more than a fiendish nightmare, a hellish dream sent to torment him.

He could see it now – the songs of the birds would awaken him. He would sit up in his bed, in his royal chambers, as he had done since before he could remember. The sunlight would stream oh so sweetly in from the wintery day beyond the balcony, and the golden shafts would reflect off the glittering snow and make him squint.

Abyll would come in rather than a servant – the dear boy prided himself as Caine's personal wake-up call. His vibrant blue eyes would light up with glee when he saw his elder brother was already awake.

For a moment, Caine felt his sanity waver. And in a blink, the scene was real. There was his brother, there, just across his room…

"_Come on, Caine!" the boy said, grinning broadly and bounding over to the bedside. Caine gave a morning groan, rubbing a hand over his face and raking his fingers through his disheveled black hair._

"_It's early, Abyll…"_

"_Yes, but you're already awake! All the more extra time to play in the snow!" Abyll tugged on his arm, threatening to drag him out of bed and onto the cold, hard floor below. He very nearly succeeded when Caine's elbow gave – cursed sleep-weighted limbs! The elder prince flopped back on the soft pillows. He cast his younger brother a glare, but the smile playing at his mouth spoiled any attempt of venom. Abyll just smiled impishly._

"_Come on! Don't be a wet blanket – come have fun!" The boy darted out onto the snow-laden balcony and leant over the rail._

"_Be careful, Abyll," said Caine, swiveling his feet from under the comforting warmth of the blankets, and onto the cold floor. The lack of welcoming heat made him shudder. "It's probably icy…"_

"_I'll be fine! Come on! It looks so fun!"_

_Caine smiled to himself; what happened to the innocence of youth? Why must it fade…_

"_Caine!" Abyll yelled for him. There was a slight shift in his tone…_

"_Yes?"_

"_Caine! Caine!" He was sure of it now; Abyll sounded distressed. A frown creased his brow._

"_Abyll, are you all right?"_

"_Caine! Caine, wake up!"_

_What on earth…_

Someone was lifting him. Dragging him to his feet. Pain lanced across his back, and he was suddenly reminded of the cruel whip lashes that shed blood down his body. Not to mention his broken nose, and damaged eye. But whoever it was that hoisted him, they were less than gentle. Had Thalion gone back on his word? Were the dragons taking him away again?

No… Soldiers. Armored soldiers. They kept a firm grip on his forearms as they picked him unceremoniously off the floor. Caine's blurry vision swept over the blood stains his momentary stay had left.

"Caine! Oh, Caine…"

She stood directly in front of him – the queen, that is. Salty trails stained her pale face, her blue eyes pink from tears. She made a move toward him, and Caine clenched his teeth as the soldiers roughly jerked him backward, away from her.

"No, Majesty," said one, voice gruff and low. "We cannot allow you-"

"I don't care! He's my son; I want to see him!" She advanced on them once more, and this time, they obliged, albeit begrudgingly.

See him… She could see him now. And he was sure it was a pitiful sight. The prince of Hyrule, reduced to this, a bleeding mass of flesh with no dignity left to save and no future of any kind beyond the punishment for his sins. He couldn't look at her as she stepped in front of him.

He didn't react when she gingerly wrapped her arms about him. No emotion escaped his expression, nor did he return the embrace. He felt her body shivering, and by the sting of salt in his wounds, he knew she was crying. The tears slid down his back, slipping into the whip marks and making them sting. He flinched the slightest, but didn't move otherwise.

What was there to react to? This person the queen held was nothing more than a shell, an empty case that once held who she knew to be her son. That boy was all but dead, and in his place, stood a bare casing, a mechanical body programmed to simply exist, killing if need be to accomplish that purpose. He felt that emptiness in full force when he realized he felt no desire to be with his mother of all people. No matter what she felt, he didn't deserve to see her again, much less be loved by her. It was his fault the king had been captured as it was… She shouldn't love him. In fact, he would have reacted more if she had hit him, cursed his name, and sentenced him to immediate death. At least it would have been expected…

"My son… My son…" She stroked his tangled nest of black locks, clutching him close to her. Why didn't he feel anything? After all this time, he was reunited with his mother. His beloved mother. Why did no tears sting his eyes, no love or even guilt well up in his chest? Perhaps he was more hollow than even he knew… For it seemed even his heart had lost its ability to feel.

Or maybe he didn't want to feel.

"Majesty…" The soldiers gripped his arms all the tighter, and pried him from the queen's grasp. The royal stumbled backward the slightest, arms extended out to Caine, groping to find him again. But the guard held her at bay. Caine's gaze drifted to the blood stains he had left on the front of her gown; it seemed everything was stained with blood these days… "This boy is a traitor, and a murderer. He must be dealt with accordingly."

"But…" He saw more tears well up in her eyes, and her lip trembled. "He's my son…"

For a brief moment, the guard looked sympathetic. "I know, Majesty. But that makes his crimes all the more potent."

She didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes never left Caine, and tears streaked over her cheeks anew. "My son… My son…" She seemed in a daze, repeating the phrase again and again, and straining against the soldier's arms. Her hands clutched at her middle, and Caine recognized the action easily. _I hope it's a son… A better son. Like Abyll._

The guards jerked him away from the queen as they saw their chance, and proceeded to drag him out of the room, and toward the dungeons.

"Caine… Caine!" Her pain-filled scream finally triggered a response from him – a slight flinch. He closed his eyes as the queen's sobs filled the hall. "Please… Please, don't take him away again… Please…"

The guards stopped again with a jolt that irritated the abrasions on his back. He swallowed a cry of pain, and cracked his eyes open to see an aged old man standing before them. One of the councilors, he thought… Chancellor Thoron, was that right?

"Take him to his chambers… but guard all exits," said the man coldly, staring down his nose at the ragged prince. "I'll send for someone to treat his wounds."

Caine didn't feel like he was even in the room. He felt lightheaded – he wanted nothing more than to give into the beckoning arms of slumber, to just let it all slip away. Perhaps he even wished to never wake again…

The room jolted, and he knew they were moving again. But he couldn't follow on his own; his feet dragged against the floor, without the strength to carry him. The strain on his shoulders stretched the wounds on his back, and he almost wished he could walk on his own… but he didn't really care anymore.

They came to a flight of stairs, and the soldiers grumbled something about the useless prince, and how taking him to the dungeon would have been easier on them… Caine didn't hear the rest. Halfway up the stairs, he ceased fighting the blackness. The pain and their whispers drifted away into nothingness as he sunk into sweet unconscious bliss.

~-LoZ-~

He deserved to feel a thousand lashes from a cat o' nine tails. He deserved to hang from the highest gallows, deserved to lose his head to the plunging blade of a guillotine, deserved any number of the greatest punishments imaginable. He had done such wrongs; his hands were tainted with the blood of his own people – people he betrayed, people he let down.

But the king… The very thought of it made Caine hang his head in anguish. The king of Hyrule was a just man, stalwart and courageous, just and kind. How he had been so blind before all of this, he didn't know. How dare he accuse such a man, the very Hero of Time, of being a coward. How dare he disrespect him so… Why had he done it?

Of course, that didn't matter now. What was done, was done. Nothing could change that.

He peered over the railing of his ever-familiar balcony, and caught sight of the shining helmets just below. The two guards stood erect and at attention – they didn't speak, nor did they fidget. They knew their job was an important one. They were guarding a murderous traitor, after all.

A murderous traitor. That's what he was. And he would be branded as such the remainder of his days, however short they may be.

He stepped back into the warmth of his room, and with a glance at the fire in the heart, was again grateful that he wasn't in a cell beneath the castle, surrounded by the stink of prisoners past, and the squeaks of mice and bats. He gave a mild shudder. Much better here than there.

The shiver made him wince as he was again reminded not to move his back so much. While most of the lashes had been sewn shut, they were still infected he was told, and hence, still ached. Badly.

Two days. Two whole days being confined to this room, having all of his meals brought to him, and knowing that the royal council was somewhere plotting his fate… all the while, Thalion had the king of Hyrule to do with as he pleased. Caine thought back to that wretched room where the jealousy-crazed knight kept his instruments of torture… Another shudder wracked his spine, and he grimaced. _Stop doing that!_

And here he was, utterly useless. He'd had two days to rise out of his self pity just enough to know that he should do something to help, but what? How could he do anything when soldiers were stationed at the only two exits to his new prison?

He sighed sinking onto the bed, propping his back against the soft pillows. Heaving a sigh, he leant his head back against the headboard. He was a confused person, all right… His emotions seemed all over the place, hopping back and forth like a frog on lily pads. For the moment, he couldn't trust his head – it was so unstable. Thoughts, conflicting thoughts, swirled and battled each other for attention, so much so that it made his head ache.

But he did know this: sooner or later, an opportunity would arise. The guards would be called away, or fall to distraction. And when that happened, he would have to be ready. Otherwise… He knew what Thalion Faroth was capable of. And the king's life hung in the balance.

~-LoZ-~

Zelda made her way through the vacant streets surrounded by her guards – she never went anywhere without them, unfortunately. Her shoes clicked on the cobblestone as she went, and the closer they came to the city square, the more ruckus she should hear… Bellows and shouts, hollers and curses. An uproar so loud, she had heard it from the palace.

She and her party rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt. Before them stood a throng of bodies. Many in the outer circle were citizens of the city, men shouting in anger, and women sobbing pitifully. Her gaze swept over the crowd, and she found that further in, dragons kept the people at bay, and a large, open space created a ring in the center. A frown creased her brow as she caught a glimpse of two of the scaly beasts in what looked to be a scuffle in the middle of the impromptu arena.

"What in heaven's name…" muttered Colin at her side; he had took it upon himself to look after her since Link left, and therefore, never left her sight beyond her private chambers. She glanced in his direction, taking in his furrowed brow and analytical gaze before turning back to the situation at hand. What was going on here?

Without waiting on the soldiers, Zelda began pushing her way through the crowd. Initially, people didn't notice her until she brushed past them. But when others began glancing back and spotting her from ahead, she knew word was travelling that the queen had arrived. And it wouldn't be long before it reached whomever was at the center of all this… The people stepped away from her and her posse to allow them through, and soon enough, Zelda was staring up into the sneering face of a red dragon.

She thought about trying to peer over its shoulder, or slip past it, but decided against it. "Let me pass," said she in a low voice, glaring up at the beast.

It chortled. "You fink you can order me 'round, little queen? Bah!" It snorted in her face, forked tongue flicking out before disappearing behind its scaled lips once more. "This is our city now; you have no authority."

Zelda gritted her teeth, clenching her fists tightly. She didn't have time for this! "Let. Me. Pass."

The dragon opened its mouth to object once more, but a familiar voice rang out over the shouts to interrupt. "Oh, let her through. I'd love for her to see a certain someone this way."

With a grunt of disapproval, the beast stepped aside, and the queen finally got a good look at the ring of space. The black knight from the day before, Thalion, stood off to the side, a smirk twisting his features. At the center, two dragons stood over a bent and bleeding figure – the beaten figure of Link Taurë. Her throat tightened. His head was hung, and his bare chest glistened with sweat and blood. Those wicked chains were still about his wrists and ankles, weighting him down, dragging on the ground with every move. The two reptiles poked and prodded him, jeering and hissing in his face, but the hero never replied. His lips remained in a firm line, never uttering a word. They slapped him with their ridged knuckles, clawed him with their talons, and used their wings to batter him about as if it were some sort of game. Yet he didn't lash back.

"Link…" The word escaped her trembling lips in a soft gasp. She felt ill, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Thalion chortled. "Pitiful, isn't it? Took me all of two days to get him this far – and he hasn't even given in yet. Stubborn fool. That son of yours was so much easier to break."

The band of dragons and Thalion began to move through the city, dragging Link along with them, and Zelda stayed as close as was possible. But the dragons weren't about to let her near her husband – no doubt, they were trying to ebb his strength, and weren't willing to risk anything renewing it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and nearly screamed in fright. She whirled about, and found herself staring into the soft blue eyes of a concerned Colin.

"Don't disappear like that," he quickly chided before helping her along with the throng, avoiding collisions with other people, and steering clear of the dragons. Zelda easily realized where they were headed – Thalion was leading them toward the palace.

They wove through the streets, and Zelda counted several that had happened to be crossing the empty road who ducked into the nearest building to hide at the sight of the procession. A sigh escaped her.

They came to the main courtyard in front of the palace, and Thalion leapt atop a mound of rubble that was once a grand fountain. He drew his sword with a flourish, and grinned sadistically down at everyone.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to this most monumental occasion – the execution of the great Hero of Time!"

~-LoZ-~

_Execution? _Caine's stomach churned, making him feel sick. _No, no, no! This can't be happening… _He had to do something, that much was certain. No way in his right mind could he simply sit there and watch from his balcony. He glanced downward, and his spirits gave a slight lift – the guards below were gone! Huzzah!

He had just turned to his closet to snatch his cloak when the door swung open to reveal a servant, about Caine's age, bearing a tray of what was to be his lunch. The dark-haired boy cast Caine a glance – there was no emotion to it; it was simply an acknowledgement – before moving to set the tray on the small table.

"Excuse me," said Caine as he pulled his cloak from the hook, and the boy turned to him expectantly. A plan was already forming in his mind, and this servant would be ideal to it. Come to think of it, he'd never seen this boy before… "What is your name?"

"Nathan, sir."

"Have you worked here long?"

"Only 'bout a month." His accent led Caine to deduce he was from the outskirts of Keskus. "Family needed money; castle needed help." He shrugged.

Caine nodded, clasping the cloak about his shoulders. "Well, Nathan, I need your help now."

Nathan cocked a brow, wariness for the first time creeping to his green eyes. "What sort a' help?"

"The king is in trouble; I need to help him," Caine said, peering off the balcony's edge. "If I just escape right now to do so, you could get in trouble for 'letting me go'. So, I'm going to have to pretend to hurt you."

"Pretend to… what?"

Caine gave a longsuffering sigh, and glanced back at the other boy. "In other words… I have to knock you out."

Those dark eyebrows shot upward, and the servant blinked incredulously. For a long moment, he said nothing, and Caine couldn't help fidget with anxiety. Time was wasting!

"Well…" Nathan sighed at long last. "…This is probably the most interesting day at work I've had. Get it over with quick; I have a low tolerance for pain."

A half-grin allowed itself to take Caine's expression, and he stepped up to his new confidant. With a brief look of apology, his hand flew to the servant's neck and, with a quick but harsh pinch, Nathan collapsed. Caine caught the now unconscious boy's arm, and eased him onto the floor, then grabbed a stack of books and flung them at the door to make a ruckus. Before the inner guards, who Caine had seen through the door as Nathan came in, burst in, he darted for the balcony and threw himself over the edge. He caught hold of the branch of the nearby tree just as he heard the soldiers stumble into his room, shouting and grumbling.

_Well, that went well… _he thought to himself. _Bless you, Nathan, for your help. May you wake without a headache. _With a short chuckle, he began to hoist himself onto the branch. But he found it more difficult than he'd anticipated. The stitches in his back seared with protest. He clenched his teeth tightly, and fumbled for better hold. But his injuries slowed his movements.

His hand slipped, and he tumbled to the ground below. His knees acted as shocks for the most part, taking most of the jar, but he swayed off balance and collapsed onto his behind.

He stood with a shake of his head, and brushed himself off before turning to the ruckus going on just around the corner. When he peered around the wall, he caught sight of something that made his heart lurch. Something that would haunt him forever.

Two dragons held the Hero of Time aloft by his wrists in their glimmering claws, his feet dangling uselessly in open air. Thalion stood proudly behind him, a chain in his hands… a chain stained with crimson. Caine's eyes darted to the king, and sure enough, great gashed poured red down his bare back, gashes made by the cruel impact of iron.

"Behold your oh-so-wonderful king now, Hyrule!" shouted the lord in black, throwing his head back in maniacal laughter. "Where is your strength, now?" He lashed the chain once more, and Caine felt sick as he heard the thump of iron against flesh. Link cried out in pain through his teeth, and the prince heard several women in the watching crowd wail for their beloved king. At the forefront of the throng, he caught sight of the queen, standing silent with a somber Colin just behind her. She was covering her mouth tightly with her hand, as if she would cry out with her husband if she didn't.

Something welled up in Caine that he hadn't felt in a long time. And all at once, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

And with all the soldiers busy, or watching Thalion's sick show, it would be so easy to slip out of the city.

~-LoZ-~

It was over. There was no strength left to fight with, and while every inch of him screamed to keep fighting anyway, he felt consciousness – and life – draining from him with each passing second like the blood from his back. Another stroke from the chain came, and he once again felt the searing pain shoot through his flesh and up his spine. This time, no kind of pressure in his jaw could keep back the scream.

No more… No more. He gave in. He gave in to the pain, gave in to the insistant tug in his will to just let go. He felt awareness slipping away. But as he closed his eyes, he caught sight of… her. Standing there… looking up at him with those beautiful blue eyes he loved so… Those eyes were wide, and glassy with fear, and pain. Every time that wretched knight lashed him, she grimaced, as if she were in pain herself. If he gave up the fight… he gave up her as well. She would not have him at her side the next morning… She would raise their last child alone…

He couldn't do that to her.

He gripped what resolve he had left, and steeled himself against the temptation to fall unconscious. Blackness still swirled before his vision, and he felt lightheaded from loss of blood. And as the chain whipped his back again, and another scream escaped him, he didn't know how long he could last…

There was a flash of blue, and a battle cry, and the dragons lost their grip on his wrists. He collapsed to the ground, and lay there, still. Through barely-opened eyes, he caught sight of a familiar figure… and smiled.

~-LoZ-~

Caine's upper lip twitched into a snarl, and he gripped the Master Sword all the tighter, his knuckles popping. Thalion stumbled back in surprise, his hands twitching for the hilt of his own black blade. But the prince wasn't going to allow him the chance to fight back. He'd had enough fun; it was time to end it, once and for all.

Slowly, the knight's look of surprise morphed in to one of sadistic pleasure. "Ah… My dear son. About time you showed up."

Caine clenched his jaw, speaking through his teeth. "I am _not _your son."

"Denial, young prince, will get you no where," said Thalion, with mock disappointment. "You see, you cannot run from what you are. I, myself, have accepted my destiny. Why not acknowledge yours?"

"The future is what you make it. After all, you don't know if you'll be breathing in a few minutes." The two combatants began to circle one another, each sizing the other up, both prepared for anything.

Thalion chortled. "A fine thing coming from you. So ready and eager to take another life?"

Caine did not grace that comment with a response. Instead, he gave the Master Sword a swing, and the blade sung through the air. Thalion ducked under it, but Caine was pleased with how close it came to that helmet of his.

Thalion took the chance to strike out with his own black blade, which Caine dodged with a short hop backward, and a parry of his sword. The two went back and forth like this for what seemed like ages. Parry, thrust. Parry, thrust. Again, and again. It was a test, Caine knew. Both were seeking for the weaknesses of the other.

Thalion found it first. He swiped, and Caine dodged to the side and knocked the stroke away. But his footing was off, and as soon as the prince did it, he knew what a mistake he had made. The black blade used its momentum against him, and came swinging back like a boomerang. It delved deep into his thigh, slicing through the flesh easily. He saw the blood before he felt the pain. And when he did feel it… boy, did he feel it. Pain so intense, it made his head light… Or perhaps that was from the loss of blood. Either way, his legs buckled only moments later, and he sunk to his knees.

With a grin, Thalion straightened and leisurely turned about, swiping his blade absentmindedly. "You see, Caine… It takes real skill to be able to second-guess your opponents' mistakes before they even do them. And when that skill is mastered, no one can defeat you… Not even a Chosen Hero. A shame you won't live long enough to master that skill yourself…"

But Thalion had made one fatal mistake. In all his boastings, he had forgotten one of the most important rules of swordplay.

Never turn your back on your opponent, unless he's dead.

Especially if they've killed before, and have no innocence left to keep.

The blade of the Master Sword pierced straight through Thalion's back, and the point emerged on the other side, at his chest. Caine jerked the blade loose, and watched as the villain's body collapsed into a heap on the courtyard ground. The crowd roundabout them murmured, and some even cheered, but all of that was drifting away. Soon, he could hear nothing… Nothing but the throbbing of his heart in his head. Of their own accord, his knees buckled again, and he sunk to the ground once more, and laid back in its comforting, unforgiving embrace. Stars and spots of black obscured his vision. The people began crowding around him…

He caught sight of the intense blue of his father's eyes just as his own fell shut.

**A/N: **How did you like Nathan? I ask, because he will be a reoccurring character.


	20. Chapter 19: Judgment & Mercy

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**Judgment and Mercy**

"_For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy; and mercy rejoiceth against judgment." ~ James 2: 13_

All had been revealed. Nothing more was hidden. The prince had confessed everything he had done, including the slaughter of his brother in the skin of a dragon. It had shocked, and pained all who had heard. And now, the time had come.

"With the exception of the king and queen, the vote must be taken – there is no other option. All in favor of the motion we have hereby discussed, say 'aye'."

"Please, gentlemen, reconsider…"

"Sir Rihst."

"_Aye."_

"Lord Sigil."

"_Aye."_

"Sir Mor."

"_Aye."_

"Sir Hathel."

"_Aye."_

"Sir Grond."

"_Aye."_

"Lord Ast."

"_Aye."_

"Ambassador Goth."

"_Aye."_

"Lord Paur."

"_Aye."_

"Lady Impa."

"_Nay, sir."_

"And I vote 'aye'." The pound of the gavel rang loud. "It is done; the motion is carried. With the exception of one, and two votes deemed null by personal involvement, the vote is unanimous: Caine Taure shall be exiled."

Thoron's words pierced Link like a dagger to the heart, and he felt all color drain from his face. Those wretched words reverberated in his head, round and round in pointless circles, taunting him, mocking him. Had the Council truly become so bold as to blatantly disobey their monarchs? He stood from his place on the royal platform in the cavernous courtroom.

"Chancellor!" he snapped, eyes hard and glaring. "You would so brazenly disrespect-"

"In this matter, we hold ultimate authority." For the first time, Thoron did nothing to hide the disdain in his voice. "Being so close to this matter annuls any right to any say you have. Your perspective is skewed; you cannot be unbiased in this. This decision is for the good and safety of the people of our country." The old man swiveled his gaze to the hunched figure at the lowest level of the room, who stood silent and stone still, bound in chains once more. "This criminal cannot be permitted to endanger the innocent any longer."

"But sir-"

"No more objections! We've demonstrated enough mercy to you in dropping the traditional death penalty; we had pity on you! But we will not stand for lax punishment. Exile was the only alternative, and exile will be dealt."

"Chancellor, you cannot-"

The elder cut Zelda off with a sharp glance. "I can, and I will. The document is being written as we speak; the prisoner has already been branded. Tomorrow morning, a party will escort him to the harbor in Hyvä Vene." Thoron then pointed a crooked finger at Link. "You, sire, will accompany them."

"If it's all the same to you, chancellor, I'd rather not."

"It is tradition. There is no choice in the matter. The king is to show the prisoner's tag to the captain before giving it to the prisoner himself; that is how it has always been done."

Link bit his tongue to keep any further argument from leaping from his lips. The chancellor was set, and the council truly did have the authority to overrule any order he or Zelda gave concerning their son's judgment. It pained his heart to admit such things, but there was nothing more they could do.

Caine's fate was sealed.

~-LoZ-~

So that was that. Judgment had been passed. He was to be exiled, banished, never again to pass the borders into Hyrule under penalty of death if he ever disobeyed the order. The courtroom buzzed about him, councilors talking amongst themselves and concurring with Thoron and arguing with the king. Nobody paid the small, withered prisoner on the criminal's platform any mind, save the guards at the door.

He lifted his hand, chains rattling with the movement, and gazed with emptiness at the newly-acquired burn on his skin. A large, red welt in the shape of a capitol 'T'. T for traitor. A mark, a brand that would haunt him the rest of his days. His crimes would follow him until his death, and beyond. Was there no hope for him?

The brand was done supposedly to warn others of the potential danger if a criminal was about. People guarded their pockets if a man with a 'Th' on his hand was near – his brand gave away his label as a thief. A man with an 'R' or an 'F' was to be avoided by all womenfolk. Whatever the letter, all who were judged by the Royal Council left their bounds with a scar, that brand that would forever change their lives.

Whether he went to Termina, or Herclia, or any of the other surrounding countries, all would know what he had done. He would never again be trustworthy, so long as that 'T' embodied his treachery. It would be a difficult existence… but one well deserved.

He felt the weight of gauntleted hands grip his arms and jerk him backward, toward the back door. The chains dragged behind him; he couldn't help wonder why they used them. They hadn't bound him for the past month while they kept him locked in his room. They were simply for the show of it, as the guards paraded him about all the way back now that the trial was over.

What was the aching in his chest? The hollowness that dwelt there? Why did his throat tighten as he looked about his room for what he knew to be the last time? What had happened to that sweet bliss of unfeeling numbness?

The guards shut the door with loud flourish, leaving him to himself and his chains. The slam echoed through the empty chambers, laughing at his loneliness, his degradation. He didn't belong here, in these lavish accommodations, anymore. He didn't belong in the palace. He didn't belong in Keskus. He didn't even belong in Hyrule.

As of tomorrow, the country in which he'd been raised, where he was born, was no longer his homeland. It will have forsaken him with the morning light. The dawn no longer held hope for him. Instead, it signaled the end of his life here. And the beginnings of the rest of it as an outsider, a marked man, a vagabond. A loner.

So much he had taken for granted until now. And all of it, he'd now lost. Even his rights to any sort of royalty; his position as prince had been renounced.

He truly had nothing left. And he felt empty, lost, wandering. Once he left the borders of the only land he had ever known, he had no place to go. He would be utterly alone in a vast world which held no sympathy to an exiled traitor. Simply surviving would require all the effort he had in his young body.

Sixteen years ago yesterday, four days after Christmas, a small child had been born. Caine, the first child of King Consort Link Taure and Queen Zelda the Wise, and prince of Hyrule. Today, that boy had died. In his place stood a murderer, a traitor, an exile doomed to wander for the rest of his days – and at the moment, it seemed like ages. Ages of nothing but friendless travelling, maneuvering from one city to the next in hopes someone would have mercy on him, and ignore the condemning mark on his hand, until the time of his life was utterly spent. Then, he would draw his last breath in a far off lonely place, surrounded by nothing save his few belongings and the precious oxygen his body deprived him of. No one would mourn his passing; no doubt no one would even know he was gone, and all memory of him would pass into legend, and myth.

This was what his life had amounted to.

_Rest in peace, Prince Caine of Hyrule. Perhaps at least you shall be missed._

~-LoZ-~

Each soft sob that wracked Zelda's body only made the ache in her heart beat worse. She had fled the courtroom to find comfort in her chambers, but as she should have expected, nothing in her room could console her. Even her Bible lay closed on the nightstand; her tears had hindered her sight enough so that she could read no longer.

She had been so hopeful. So hopeful that with Caine's courageous sacrifice, the councilors might have been merciful. He had saved the king, after all! And nearly lost his leg in the process; even now, the doctors said the limp in his stride would never leave him. Too much damage had been done by that cursed black blade of Thalion's. And yet, the Council judged him ruthlessly, harshly, coldly. There wasn't a forgiving bone in their bodies! She buried her face into her soft pillow, hiccupping on a sob that threatened to choke her.

And now Caine… her son, her firstborn, her baby boy… was to be exiled. To leave the borders of Hyrule, and never return. If he did, he would be killed, no matter what the cause. Either way, she was losing him. And she couldn't get him back.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she jumped, startled. But the sight of those beautiful blue eyes looking concernedly down at her silenced the gasp of surprise, and she instantly sat up to wrap her arms about her husband. He was quick to return the embrace, and for the longest time, he held her as she cried into his shoulder.

Hours passed, and finally, Zelda's tears spent themselves. Eyes feeling dry and swollen, she continued to sniffle and take deep breaths to try and calm herself. Her hands flew suddenly to her ever-growing midsection as there was a short flurry of movement within her, and she knew that the sudden stress was upsetting the babe in her womb. With a great sigh, she forced herself to relax against Link, who was still content to hold her, and comfort her. The stirring inside of her stilled soon after.

"Why wasn't there more that we could do?" she said in a hoarse breath, her lip trembled. Her throat threatened to close once more, a sob welling in her throat. "Why wouldn't they listen…"

There was no answer, both of them knew. None, beyond the cruel heartlessness that had always shrouded the council of the royal family of Hyrule for generations. A coldness that could not be remedied. And one that, unfortunately for the moment, could not be opposed.

~-LoZ-~

The caravan left early the next morning, just as dawn graced the cold of night with its pink light. The birds began to chirp as they passed the outer wall of Keskus, flitting about the air like so many busy bees, going from tree to tree without a care, oblivious to the gravity of the posse below.

In the midst of the numerous armored horses, accompanying guards, and winter coats, there was no joy. The dawn did little to warm their spirits; particularly, the prisoner among them. He rode at the very center, surrounded on all sides.

Untrustworthy.

He was a murderer, after all. Who could ever trust someone who had killed in cold blood? His hands were forever tainted. And as they walked over the long, silent expanse that was Hyrule Field, he knew he deserved it. Oh, how he deserved it… He had destroyed homes. He had thoughtlessly killed soldier after soldier in battle after bloody battle. And… he had taken the life of his own flesh and blood, his eleven-year-old brother. A boy… A boy with his entire life ahead of him. Gone.

In all truth, he deserved execution, really. But… at least his parents had been this merciful.

It felt like a funeral procession. He could just imagine the coffin carried between the two soldiers at the head, just behind the king. And in his mind, that coffin bore what was once his life. The prince was in that imaginary coffin, and his shell remained.

His gaze fell again to the letter-shaped scar on the back of his hand. He brushed a finger over it, and winced at the tenderness of the skin. It would never heal… just as he would never heal.

It took days of slow travel – and travel was slow, with all the soldiers in full armor; there were still dragons about, and one must always be ready – to reach the docks of Hyva Vene. Upon arriving, they found the city streets vacant, and lonely. A moaning wind made its way through the broken streets, blowing old ash down alleyways. It seemed fitting… It was mocking him, telling him that he was getting what he deserved for burning the homes and bodies of the innocent.

As they went, people began to file out of what sturdy-looking buildings were left. These were the refugees, those who had found shelter in hiding during the draconic takeover. Most wore tattered black clothing, and their expressions were stony as they watched the royal procession maneuver down the streets. Many followed, and a crowd began to grow around them, watching as they grew closer to the docks.

One of the few things that had survived the War of the Dragons was the Hylian fleet. For the most part, it had remained unused, and because of that, the dragons had left it alone. Many of the nation's finest ships bobbed tied to the wooden poles of the docks, sails tied and banners, though singed, fluttering in the wind. The crowd remained silent as they came to a smaller ship called the _Deliverance. _Ironic; it truly would 'deliver' something, someone into the hands of the wilds of Termina. Deliverance normally had good connotation; now it only served to remind Caine of what his future held. And what an ominous feeling it was.

The crowd remained deathly silent, as if they were watching the march to a tomb. Caine hung his head as he felt the weight of their gazes. They knew, they all knew…

The soldiers fell back, until it was only the king and him riding for the _Deliverance_. The emotional space between them was so great, and so crushingly lonely, it threatened to consume him. Had all bridges truly been burned…

They dismounted their horses, and Caine followed the rigid figure of the king as he led the way out onto the dock, up the boardwalk, onto the deck of the ship. None of the crew was anywhere in sight. Only the captain stood on a higher deck, by the spoked wheel. The silence in the afternoon air was deafening, broken only by the loud _clomp _of their boots on the boards.

Caine stayed beside the mast as the king went to the captain, and presented him with the papers that were his tags. The documents that stated in writing, sealed with the royal emblem, his charge of treachery, and his punishment. Upon their arrival in Termina, Caine was ordered by law to keep those documents on his person at all times, for the rest of his life. It had to be presented to potential employers, partners, and anyone else of importance before any further business was done with them. If his brand didn't warn them, those papers would.

He jumped when the king appeared in front of him, and began unlocking the chains that bound his wrists. Caine kept his eyes downward as the man did so, unable to look at his face. If he did… what would he see there? Sorrow? Disappointment? Perhaps hatred… Or even pleasure at seeing this dirty criminal finally punished. Whatever the case, he was too afraid to find out…

The weight of the chains fell away, and he felt himself grow three inches. But he still did not look up.

"I'm sorry, Caine."

The softness of the king's voice startled him, and his gaze snapped upward. Though he regretted it, he was surprised to find a sadness in those blue eyes so deep, he could have drowned in it. The king of Hyrule looked down upon him, not with disdain, or enjoyment, but with a sorrow, as if the king himself was the one being banished. Caine nearly took a step backward in his surprise.

The man attempted – and failed – a reassuring smile, gingerly patting Caine's shoulder before turning back to the boardwalk. He had reached the edge of the deck when the prince finally reacted.

"Dat."

Those broad shoulders stiffened, and he stopped, but didn't turn. Caine couldn't blame him; he had even surprised himself, letting that word blurt off his tongue after so many years… It felt foreign to him, now. But it had worked, nonetheless.

Slowly, very slowly, the king turned, brow furrowed in confusion. Caine could have sworn he saw his eyes glistening. His own throat tightened as he gingerly stepped closer to him, and he sunk to one knee, in a bow of respect. He lowered his head, closing his eyes as they burned.

"I'm sorry…" His tongue seemed content with those words, and decided to give in to the shudder in his voice. Two lone tears fell from his eyes, one dropping to the back of his hand, and a slight, strangled sob wrenched itself free of his throat. "I'm so, so sorry…"

Those floodgates broke. And for the first time in a long time…

He felt again.

But it hurt. It hurt so bad, it jerked the tears from his eyes, and closed his throat so he couldn't speak, save for choking out those same words: "I'm sorry."

It was only when he felt a hand on each of his shoulders that that wretched lump loosened enough to continue.

"I-I know I don't deserve forgiveness… and I certainly don't deserve to be called your son… but I don't want to be alone anymore. Please…" His words were muffled by sobs, and stretched by the tightness of his vocal cords. "Please, don't send me away… I don't… I-I want to go home… I want to go home…"

He felt a crushing embrace envelope him, and he leant into his father's shoulder. It had been years, years since he had ever been so open with him. What had separated them? What had caused their once strong father-son bond to deteriorate so?

He didn't know what passed through the king's head in those few minutes, but after a long while, he felt a heavy hand on his arm.

"No, son… You're coming home… You're coming home."

Perhaps the king did not know the full impact of those words. But at the moment, Caine didn't know whether he would shoot into the sky, or collapse to the ground. He could not put a name to the emotions that filled him; they were so jumbled, it was impossible to tell them apart. But this much, he did know: his father was no liar.

He _was _going home.

At long last.


	21. Chapter 20: Rejoice

**A/N: A big thank you to all who have/are reviewed/reviewing! This story was so fun to write; I'm not sure if I forgot any small details in wrapping up; if so, I'll eventually go back and find them, but hopefully I have remembered to resolve everything. If not, let me know, and I will fix it. If you're confused about anything, say so, and if it requires editing in the chapters, I will do my best to make it clearer.**

**Again, thank you all, and God bless you!**

**~Penenlope**

**Chapter Twenty:**

**Rejoice**

"_And he said, A certain man had two sons: And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. _

_And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him._

_And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants._

_And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him._

_And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son._

_But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry._

_Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard musick and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant._

_And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound._

_And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and intreated him._

_And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf._

_And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found." ~ Luke 15: 11-32_

As they strode down the boardwalk, Link paused, took those wretched tags, and tore them into small pieces. Dropping them over the edge of the plank, he watched them flutter to the ocean water below, and a half smile crossed his face. _If they're going to dethrone me, then let them. But I will not lose another son._

He looked up to find Caine staring at him inquisitively, blue eyes – Zelda had so often said they were uncannily similar to his – widened at the sight of the bits of paper being tossed on the breeze. The boy's expression was more lax than Link had seen it in years. It seemed that in a mere moment, with the forgiving words that had come from his mouth, he had lifted a tremendous burden from those young shoulders. A burden he should have never had to bear.

Caine's eyes darted from the paper to Link's face and then back again. Link could only smile, and walk down the rest of the plank to the swaying docks. He patted his son's shoulder as he passed, sending one last glance back at the ship's captain, who waved and gave a mischievous wink before putting a finger over his mouth.

A chuckle escaped his throat as he led the way back up to the shore. The crowd was murmuring, and the soldiers watched on with confusion. But Link had no desire to explain things to them. Whether the soldiers followed or not, he was going to ride back to Keskus with his son, and take him straight to Zelda. Oh, yes, the council would come after them after a while, but they wouldn't let that deter them. Caine was home – the real Caine, the son that the kingdom hadn't known for years before this war. And that was a cause worth celebrating.

The royal twosome bypassed the dumbfounded guards, who watched them go with blank expressions. Link went to Epona; the horse was almost smiling at him. He ruffled her forelock. "I know, I know, you told me so." The mare nickered, tossing her head, as he swung up into the saddle. He glanced over at Caine, who had mounted the small, lighter-boned horse that he had ridden here.

"Gentlemen," Link addressed the soldiers, head held high, "we are heading back to Keskus. I aim to reach the city before midnight. Any who wish to stay the night here and come back tomorrow are free to do so; those who come along will have to keep up. Any questions?"

Most of them just blinked in confusion. With the slightest of knowing smirks, he reined Epona around, and then glanced back at his son. Caine gave him a small nod, and without a second glance at the surrounding city, the Hylian king heeled his steed in the barrel and charged forward. Two sets of hoofbeats echoed over the city, and the two horses carried their respective charges out of the port and into the surrounding wilds.

They left their troubles behind.

For the moment, they were simply a father and son rejoicing in the return of one and the restoration of the other. They had not just finished a war. The Council was not waiting for them back in the capitol. And there were most certainly no more dragons in the land. All – at least, until they arrived outside the walls of Keskus – was well, and right.

Link glanced back, and his heart leapt at the sight of Caine looking like, well… Caine. It seemed like forever ago since the last time the boy had smiled, genuinely smiled. But now, as the full gallop became more and more a race, it seemed neither of them could keep the grins off their faces.

Caine's steed inched forward. Link cast him a wry look, and gave Epona more rein, and the mare responded by surging forward a length or two.

"Hey!" the prince called, then urged his own steed forward. But no horse was as fast as Epona, and once she picked up her speed, none had ever been able to catch her again.

Needless to say, Link won the race to Keskus. Of course, they had taken time to ride slower, but they had never gone below a trot; they had determined to reach the capitol by midnight, and as Link stared up at the full moon in the winter skies, he guessed it was just about that.

The gates opened as they arrived, and they were able to ride right through. They paid no heed to the people or buildings or constructions they passed. The king led them on a straight way toward the palace.

"You do realize the Council's going to pitch a royal fit, don't you?" Caine suddenly called over the loud thundering of the horses' hooves.

Link laughed. "Let them. Nothing they do or say can change my mind. We lost you once; we're never going to do it again."

He couldn't miss the grin that spread across the prince's face then.

"You know," the boy said after a pause, "if you can't stand them so, why haven't you disbanded them yet?"

A frown crossed the king's face. "Disbanded?"

"Yes… Didn't you know? The _Assemblage of Hylian Law_, chapter forty-seven _Affairs of the Royal Council_, subsection three, page three-hundred eighty-four. 'If said council be corrupted, the king and/or queen, or whatever leading monarch of the time, may disband the council under charge of no confidence in decisions made by the current council. A new council may then be elected, or previous council may reassemble only by order of the monarch and/or after thorough investigation.' Haven't you read the _Assemblage_?"

It took Link a moment to wrap his mind around what had just poured from his son's mouth. It was so obvious! Well… Obvious enough. How had he not remembered that? "Uh… Well, yes. Uh, once… Er, most of it. I was required to before I could marry your mother, but… I don't recall that part."

"Well… It's only a small subsection. Only one-hundred pages. But still… If you don't trust your own council, then what's the use of having them around?"

Link's gaze swiveled to his son in amazement. Perhaps all that extra study time in the library had done him good!

They came to the palace gates. After only minor hesitation upon seeing Caine, the sentries let them pass, for the most part only because Link ordered it. The horses' hooves clip-clopped on the stone courtyard until they came to a stop before the doors. Both simultaneously dismounted and, letting the reins drop to the ground – both steeds recognized ground-tying – headed straight up the steps, and through the mighty palace doors.

The hole in the ceiling above the great hall was almost complete. The broken pillars had been restored – though, Link wondered if Caine also felt a sharp pain in his heart when they passed the very same pillar that had brought young Abyll his death. Amazingly enough, though he shouldn't have been surprised, the king felt no bitterness for this. His youngest son's murderer was walking just beside him, but no blame was placed there. In fact, there was no blame at all. It was as if all of it had been simply washed away.

"Hurry, and we'll get to our chambers before the Council discovers you're here." Link led the way up the many staircases of the castle, toward the level where the royal chambers sat. Just as they were climbing the last steps, however, a soft gasp came from behind them. Both father and son turned toward the sound, to find mother staring up at them from the base of the stairs with wide eyes.

A smile spread across Link's face, and he descended the steps once more, Caine following close behind. At the bottom, he stopped, but the prince did not. Caine brushed right past and into Zelda's waiting embrace. It was an odd sight, to be true; if the prince had still been a bit smaller, it might not have looked so… different. But as it was, Link was reminded that his son, at fifteen years of age, was just about as tall as he was. Thus, he towered at least four inches over his mother, and while it looked like Zelda wanted to be the one cradling her boy, the days of her pulling a young prince into her lap and rocking him to sleep were long since past. Now, the queen nestled in her son's embrace, and he rested his cheek atop her auburn hair.

Link caught sight of his wife's intense blue eyes peering over Caine's shoulder. She lifted her head enough so that he could see her smiling face, and mouthed a thank you. The grin that had plagued his expression since Hyvä Vene grew all the wider, and he gave her a slow nod in return.

But of course, the moment of blissful reunion was doomed to end quickly. A roar of rage echoed through the hall, as clattering footsteps could be heard ascending the last staircase.

"Link Taurë, you dare deliberately disobey the blatant orders of this council and bring that dirty, no-good, blood-stained, rotten…" Thoron's grumblings drifted away, but his grizzled face was still the image of anger itself.

Zelda reluctantly broke the embrace with the prince, and Link stepped in front of both of them, shifting his expression, matching the intensity of the chancellor's gaze. "I brought my son home, not a murderer."

The quiet answer seemed to startle the older man, who blinked, and his bushy brows furrowed further. "What is this nonsense?"

"The murderer perished at the harbor. This boy," Link looked back to Caine, who regarded him with wonder, "is our son. And he's come home… at last." He swiveled his gaze back to Thoron, and found those ancient eyes blazing.

"This is insolence! We made an order, sealed it with our insignia. It cannot be so easily broken!"

"Those tags you created for my son are disintegrating somewhere at the bottom of the Great Sea, Thoron," said Link, letting his voice raise the slightest. He was tired of bowing to these pompous peacocks that dared call themselves the council. He was the king, after all! And, at least this time, he was going to use that to his advantage. "I am the Hylian king; you swore allegiance to me, not the other way 'round."

At the first statement, Thoron's grey eyes widened considerably, then narrowed at the latter one. "King _Consort_, and don't you forget it!"

That was a low blow, and it made Link flinch the slightest. Then his brows lowered in anger. For the longest time, he made no move – he simply stared the chancellor down. Many had often whispered of the power the Hero of Time held in his eyes, in his very gaze. Some said he could defeat foes with a mere glare if he wanted. This, of course, was an exaggeration. But this much was true: people had a tendency to fidget once that intense blue gaze fixated upon them. Chancellor Thoron was no exception. The old man, after a few moments of attempting to return the stare, began fumbling for words to break the tense silence.

"Caine." Link spoke first, without glancing back. "Kindly explain to these gentlemen what you explained to me earlier."

The prince blinked, then stepped forward. " 'If said council be corrupted, the king and/or queen, or whatever leading monarch of the time, may disband the council under charge of no confidence in decisions made by the current council. A new council may then be elected, or previous council may reassemble only by order of the monarch and/or after thorough investigation'."

Thoron sputtered. "Wh-What… How…"

"You counted since the start on me not knowing the depths of my own country's laws," Link continued, voice gaining confidence with each word. "Luckily for you in all these years, I was a bit lazy in my studies – at the time, I was in a rather large rush to marry a certain lovely lady." He cast Zelda a mischievous wink. Then his gaze, serious again, returned to the chancellor. "But my son is smarter than all of you give him credit for. He read every last page of that law book – laws this very council, and councils for generations past, have put into action."

The chancellor continued to stumble for words to counter theirs, but Link was on a roll, and he wasn't about to stop.

"As king, I hereby disband the current council. Investigation will not be needed; I believe that this country needs a new outlook on its affairs. Therefore, in a month's time, an entirely new council will be selected. As of now, you all live ordinary Hyrulian lives – go now, and enjoy them in what way you see fit. With the exception of Lady Impa, of course, who is to stay on as the queen's personal advisor."

The Sheikah gave a knowing smile from the back of the flabbergasted group, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well?" said the king after a rather long moment of bewildered silence. "What are you all still standing around here for? Go on!"

The Hylians blinked out of their stupors, and all backpedaled to the staircase. Most went as if in a trance, faces expressionless as they tried to process what had just happened. The ex-chancellor kept his glare on Link for a few moments longer before slowly following.

Caine gave a slight chuckle once they had all gone. "I think you just made nine new enemies."

"I'd say that's a new record, wouldn't you?" Impa closed the distance between them, smirking at them, her red eyes twinkling as they settled on the prince. "Welcome home, Prince Caine. Welcome home."

_Home… _Link smiled. As a servant emerged from a door down the hall, he suddenly had a thought. Now would be the perfect time to announce a celebration all across the city. The prodigal had returned, and that was a perfect occasion to rejoice.

~-LoZ-~

Fireworks exploded in bright arrays of colorful sparks that danced across the sky, competing with the stars for light and attention. Their loud booms and cracks echoed through the night air as the celebration continued on. Caine had long since retreated to his room, for once a bit shy of all the attention. He truly didn't deserve all of this… but his parents had given it to him any way. The very through made the smile return to his face again.

But he had spent enough time on his balcony. In fact, at the moment, the stone pinnacle was vacant of any occupant. Caine sat at his desk, watching out the window as more colored spots erupted in midair. His journal sat open in front of him, and he held his quill in hand, pausing briefly in his writing. Once the sparks fell away once more, he turned back to the page, and reviewed what he had written.

_Amazing grace is falling_

_Upon my thirsty soul_

_It pours like rain_

_To sooth my pain_

_Amazing grace is falling_

_..._

_Amazing grace is pouring_

_Like salve upon a wound_

_It cools, and heals_

_New strength reveals_

_Amazing grace is pouring_

_..._

_Amazing grace is washing_

_Away all my filthy stains_

_With love like dew_

_Pure, and new_

_Amazing grace is washing_

_..._

_Amazing grace_

_Amazing grace_

_I don't deserve such lofty place_

_Wash over me_

_Wash over me_

_Cause my blind eyes to see_

_All is well_

_All is well_

_Love restored, evil quelled_

_Amazing Graze_

_Amazing Grace_

_Thank You for filling my heart's empty place_

_~ ©Penelope Jadewing, 2012_

**A/N: **Short chapter, I know. But that's the end, and stay tuned for an epilogue, and a sneak preview of the sequel (which has yet to be titled)!

Yes, I wrote the poem. Copyrighted to me; my own creation! No touchy! ;)


	22. Epilogue: Resolution

**Epilogue:**

**Resolution**

"_But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you." ~ 1 Peter 5:10_

The point of the Master Sword drove into the ground with ease, and the strong hands on the hilt held fast. A ginger breeze wafted over the tall prairie grass of the fields of Faron, stirring up pollen into the face of the single figure who stood over the erect sword. The man gazed for a few moments up at the lazy clouds before sinking down to his knees.

"God…" he said aloud, voice sounding empty over the vast plain. He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, and continued. "So much as happened… I know You were with us through it all, but… I can't help wishing it were different. Not that I'm unthankful, not in the least. Everything in my life has been a blessing from You. But… I have come before You to beseech You… Let this cup pass from me. Before, when I was in Ordon, it was easy to accept what You called me to do. But now… It threatens the safety of my family, Lord. The responsibility You have placed in me, while I don't resent it… I do not wish to put them in further danger. Please, I beg of You… break my bonds to this sword."

For the longest time, there was no answer. And yet, Link listened. He listened with patience; an answer would come. It always did. The wind howled over the prairie, the only sound in the wilderness for minutes – perhaps hours – on end.

Then, it came – a soft whisper on the breeze. The Hylian could never be sure whether he was truly hearing it aloud, or if it was simply a tug on his spirit, but it was there all the same.

_Take the sword to the Hall._

"Time Hall?"

_Time Hall, the very one._

He stood to his feet, lifting the precious blade from the earth and turning back to Epona, who stood grazing a few paces back. Once he sat comfortably in the saddle, he spurred her on in the direction of the Sacred Grove. It took mere minutes to reach the woods, and soon, the looming structure of Time Hall came into view amidst the reaching branches. Shafts of light streamed between the leaves, giving the location an unearthly appearance.

Link swung off his steed, boots thumping softly on the ground, and headed up the steps to the doors of the hall. He nodded to the sentries, and pushed inside. The great door swung shut behind him. And he was alone again.

The tugging came again. _Put the sword in its place._

Without a second thought, he approached the Pedestal of Time and, with a strong thrust, drove its point back into its slot, firmly. Satisfied that it was steadfast, he stepped back once more.

_Because of the calling I have placed on your life, your hands will forever be bound to this blade. You have been blessed with courage and integrity beyond the common man. This is the part you were meant to play. In obeying my commands, and following my guiding, you have pleased me, and become the hero you were meant to be. Because of this, you are blessed, my son._

_But because you have asked me… Because you have asked… The remainder of your rein as king shall be a peaceful one. While you, and many of your descendents, are bound this sword and its purpose – to vanquish evil – they shall trouble you no more while you occupy the throne. Heroes to come will now bear the weight of evils also yet to come. Go now, and be merry – sorrow no more._

Link instantly felt a comforting presence surround him, and a smile spread over his face. He gave the Master Sword one last long gaze, before turning around and heading back out into the fresh air of a dawning spring. He had gone in weighted down by his troubles… and he exited with a spring in his step, burdens gone, and a fresh outlook to the coming days.

Everything was going to be all right.

**THE END**


	23. Alternate Ending

**A/N: To Unknown in regards to your review:**

**Yeeeaaaaahhhh... this story is really, really old, and it kinda embarrasses me and I can't even read it... I've learned a lot about writing since I finished it. I appreciate your honesty! :) I know some writers have a hard time taking constructive criticism, and I used to be that way, but I've come to learn, among other things, that I'm going to make mistakes as a writer and most of the time, other people can see those mistakes better than I can.**

**You did inspire me to make a shorter, alternate ending, which I actually kinda like better 'cause it's angsty and feelzy and painful and has tons more sequel possibilities... *cough* so here it is.**

**Being younger as I was, I didn't think the other ending had issues, buuuut looking at it now, it totally does... it has lots... the whole story has lots... I could rewrite the whole thing, but I'm not _that_ ambitious. XP**

**Characterization: Yes, I didn't do well with that at all... Back when I started this, I knew very little about Legend of Zelda. I still haven't played the games myself because of a few minors qualms with the story world (personal qualms; I like the concept and characters and stuff), and I don't think I'd attempt to write Colin again until I researched a bit more. But I'd like to think that I know a little more about it than I did then... I'm still not claiming to be an expert, though.**

**Christianity references: I won't deny that I replaced the 'three goddesses' with one God on purpose. I, as a Christian, don't feel comfortable writing other gods as if they're real and active when I don't believe in any deities other than my own. It's just a personal conviction of mine. I will admit, I had not mastered the art of tact in my writing back when I wrote this and it was very preachy... I don't even like preachy books myself, so like I said, it's almost painful trying to reread this now... So I apologize if I came off as pushy or preachy; that wasn't my intention when I wrote it. My only intention was to give my God glory, as I aspire to do with all my writing. I don't always do it right, though.**

**Again, thank you for your honesty! :) Sometimes, it's nice to get more than squees and 'omgosh i love this's. I like getting reviews like yours, because it means that I made you think. Even if I did manage to annoy you a bit... :P And you took the time to review and explain the problems you have, and that helps me to know how I can improve in later fics (I would certainly hope that I already have... I've written so many more fanfics since I ended this one, it'd be a little worrying if I made the same mistakes in all of them as I did here). So I assure you, I don't feel offended. I'm actually amazed that even with those things going against my story for you, you still read all the way to the end! I commend you! It's not the best piece of fiction around, not in the least.**

**So, don't worry. I'm not gonna rage or tell you that you're gonna die for saying negative things. I'm glad you seemed to semi-enjoy it and give it 6 out of 10. :) And thank you for taking the time to explain how you felt about the story as a whole! I hope that maybe, even though this fic might've disappointed you, maybe you'll eventually read one of my better ones... XP God bless!**

**~Penelope**

* * *

><p><strong>Alternate Ending:<strong>

Caine stayed beside the mast as the king went to the captain, and presented him with the papers that were his tags. The documents that stated in writing, sealed with the royal emblem, his charge of treachery, and his punishment. Upon their arrival in Termina, Caine was ordered by law to keep those documents on his person at all times, for the rest of his life. It had to be presented to potential employers, partners, and anyone else of importance before any further business was done with them. If his brand didn't warn them, those papers would.

He jumped when the king appeared in front of him, and began unlocking the chains that bound his wrists. Caine kept his eyes downward as the man did so, unable to look at his face. If he did… what would he see there? Sorrow? Disappointment? Perhaps hatred… Or even pleasure at seeing this dirty criminal finally punished. Whatever the case, he was too afraid to find out…

The weight of the chains fell away, and he felt himself grow three inches. But he still did not look up.

"I'm sorry, Caine."

The softness of the king's voice startled him, and his gaze snapped upward. Though he regretted it, he was surprised to find a sadness in those blue eyes so deep, he could have drowned in it. The king of Hyrule looked down upon him, not with disdain, or enjoyment, but with a sorrow, as if the king himself was the one being banished. Caine nearly took a step backward in his surprise.

The man attempted – and failed – a reassuring smile, gingerly patting Caine's shoulder before turning back to the boardwalk. He had reached the edge of the deck when the prince finally reacted.

"Dat."

Those broad shoulders stiffened, and he stopped, but didn't turn. Caine couldn't blame him; he had even surprised himself, letting that word blurt off his tongue after so many years… It felt foreign to him, now. But it had worked, nonetheless.

Slowly, very slowly, the king turned, brow furrowed in confusion. Caine could have sworn he saw his eyes glistening. His own throat tightened as he gingerly stepped closer to him, and he sunk to one knee, in a bow of respect. He lowered his head, closing his eyes as they burned.

"I'm sorry…" His tongue seemed content with those words, and decided to give in to the shudder in his voice. Two lone tears fell from his eyes, one dropping to the back of his hand, and a slight, strangled sob wrenched itself free of his throat. "I'm so, so sorry…"

Those floodgates broke. And for the first time in a long time…

He felt again.

But it hurt. It hurt so bad, it jerked the tears from his eyes, and closed his throat so he couldn't speak, save for choking out those same words: "I'm sorry."

But no response came. The king was utterly silent, that he wasn't sure what hurt more, the silence, or his own anguish. And as footsteps proceeded off the ship, Caine could only kneel there, unable to speak past his own tongue. He didn't move as the steps retreated down the gangplank, and after a few more moments, the plank was removed, the anchor lifted, and the ship underway.

So that was it. It was done.

Caine would never see Hyrule again.


End file.
